


After The Storm

by AnUnknownForeignBeauty



Series: After the storm [1]
Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Post Trilogy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 05:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19100752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnUnknownForeignBeauty/pseuds/AnUnknownForeignBeauty
Summary: Sets after the ending of "Mockingjay". A hijacked Peeta, a depressed Katniss, a drunk Haymitch, a ruined district 12. It is a story of their journey from the dark moments to healing, to love, and to life. It is how Katniss and Peeta grow together in the epilogue. The path isn't so easy. It's the story of their days, months and years after the war. In Peeta's POV.





	1. 15

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Grow together](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/488113) by Miss Scarlett 05. 



_Summery-_ _It begins with the day Peeta plants Primroses at Katniss's door, and Katniss shuts the door on his face. How can they heal their broken hearts when Katniss is half-mad, drowning into the sea of depression and Peeta is fighting his own flashbacks? What are the events that lead to the epilogue? Hear the story of their new struggle in Peeta's POV._

Day one _\- Nothing to remember_

Karrr, garrr…

The harsh scratching sound that the wheels are making over the iron plates never seems so sad like before- like a sad song, like a cry. Trains always bring pleasure to me because they mean home, seeing the beloved faces once again. It means those nights, it means a pair of warm arms around me, and it means the lost dreams, a faint ray of hope of living in the sea of death.

It means her.

My fingers curl in a tight ball with the thought of her name; those horrible clouds begin covering my mind. "No, I can't lose again"- I remember. "It's not her who did those, it is Capitol, it is Snow." But now the revolution is over, Capitol is not controlling the districts anymore. There are no Hunger games anymore, we are free again.

Then why I feel so sad?

"Mr. Mellerk, it is the last stoppage." The lines of my thoughts are broken with the cabin boy's voice. For the first time in the last six months I was allowed to travel alone. Thanks to Dr. Aurelius, who decided to clear me at last. He asked me about the next plan. All the rebels were welcomed to the districts they had chosen. I could have a sea-side home in four or a tiny log house under the mountain in two or even could have a beautiful bakery in Capitol like all other rebels had. Every district was chosen, but no one chose twelve. Who would choose a graveyard for living?

But I chose.

It isn't the best choice, I know. I know many of the things those can still trigger my flashback are still here- the ash, the dead and Katniss.

I make my way through the train door and step into the platform from where I've first started my journey. That station. My boots make a perfect print over the thick layers of dust. My eyes train the once white columns that are blackened by the horrible bomb. Many and many faces flash into my mind, some teary eyes, some weeping faces, I can't remember. My head gives a slight spin and I stumble forward. I quickly catch a nearby pillar to clam myself down, the memories are not yet gone yet, those horrible memories. And they never will. They have made a permanent print inside my brain; I can't erase them as much as I try.

Suddenly the station turns into a prison that I can't even breathe. I gasp for air; I know if I stay here for another moment, my inner demons will engulf me again. I've to get out from here, right now.

I step out of the ghostly station and for the first time since the quarter quell, I stand under the sky of twelve, the sky I know always. The familiar air of twelve brushes against my cheeks and I inhale deeply. But it isn't the air I know- laden with the smoky fragrance of coal mines. Rather than it smells like ash, like grief, like death. I open my eyes only to find myself standing in the ankle deep pile of ashes. As I take another step forward, something struck my boot and rolls away- slightly grey, slight brown, slightly unusual in shape. Sure it is not a stone. Curiously I bent down and pick that up. As soon as my eyes train the reality I'm holding in my hand, a chill runs down through my spin.

A skull! Its hollow eyes with a mocking grin are looking straight back at me, as if reminding me of the horrible truth. Go away; there is no place for livings. My hand trembles, dropping the skull on the ash covered ground. I cover my face with my hands and begin walking from the haunted place. No it can't be true, it can't be. But it is true. The ruins of the houses, the brunt skeletons of the trees around me, the bones scattered around me remind me the reality. I decide not to stop until I can find another living being here.

But I have to stop. The wind swirls around me; the ash covers my tangled hair spreading a fine layer over my boots. My eyes catch the familiar signboard of Mellerk's Bakery but only to find a few crumbled pieces of blackened steel remnants. It seems very unusual- the always crowded Mellerks bakery is now nothing but a huge pile of rubbles, broken glasses and crumbled steels. Ash covered the counter inside in several layers. I know if I search there, I may find the skulls and the bones of my brothers, my father, and my family. A tear is threatened to drop. For the last six months I tried to remember their faces, but I can't. My father's warm blue eyes, my brother's horrible jokes never flash inside my mind. I slowly walk near the ruins, carefully avoiding the sharp ends of the glasses. I place one hand over the broken window; it leaves a perfect print over the pile of ashes. Everything is broken; spiders are residing in the every corner of the deserted bakery. I close my eyes, and try to remember those faces I loved.

Nothing clicks inside my head; my mind remains as white as before. There is nothing to remember. A sigh rips my throat as I open my eyes. There is nothing living here except one.

Unknowingly my eyes catch the solitary figure with the single braid passing by. A pair of squirrel hanging over her right shoulder with a bow over the left one, I know whom I'm seeing.

Katniss.

She is wearing her father's black hunting jacket, like the way I met her years ago. She is still the hunter but lost looks in her eyes differs the lonely girl from the one from the games. Thin, scared, burnt, crazy both of us, we match.

The inner demons have begun muttering inside me from the moment I saw her. It is still provoking me to wrap my fingers around her delicate neck, take the revenge of the death of my family. I know it is will come. The clouds are covering my brain. My hand makes a tight fist, I lean against the wall beside me. How much I want to run near her, talk with her right now, but I can't. I grit my teeth until she is gone.

When she is gone, I run out of the bakery, wrapping my arms tightly around myself. I know I can't stay away from her for long, but how can I face her when my inner demons keep driving me crazy in this way? I keep running until I reach the end of the district, cross the once electrified fence and drag myself deep into the woods. I never liked jungles, but for the first time it feels like a perfect place for the beast like me.

I don't know how long I stay there sitting under a tree, wrapping my arms around my knees, fighting the flashbacks. As the dying ray of the sun touches my cheeks lightly, I become able to look around myself properly. The part of jungle is shady with big trees and a few bushes growing here and there. I can't name all of them but surely I can name a certain one- the Primrose.

Something weird happens inside me as I look at the small flowering bushes. Among all the burnt ruins it looks strangely alive. I've seen the namesake burning right before my eyes. But these bushes seem more like her, smiling, vivid. I dig them up, gather them in my arms gently like a baby and begin walking towards her home.

I know it is a very wrong idea. She can still trigger the flashbacks.

Still I take this challenge, like a new game.

Let the game begin.

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	2. Behind the closed door

It is still dark when I bring out the old shovel from the storeroom. Last night was the most horrible night of my life because I had to spend all the time hiding beneath the bed, clasping my hands over my ears so that I didn't have to hear her wailings.

They still remind me of the nights when she used to hold onto me to get rid of her nightmares. That can be a nice memory; one can tend for the rest of his life. But to me that is another nightmare because it calls back the demons inside me who continue to provoke me to wrap my hands around her neck again. I look at the scraggy brushes in the wheelbarrow and sigh. They seem slightly lusterless, but still they are green, which means they are still alive. Yes, they are. They can't die on me like the little girl I couldn't save. Prim's death is still like an open wound inside me, which tends to bleed with the slightest touch. I can still remember her earnest face visiting me in the prison of the thirteen.

_You love her, you must remember._

Yes, I must remember. My inner demons are still wailing as I try to shake away the cobwebs covering my hair. Gently I put the shovel in the wheelbarrow and begin wheeling.

It is the kneeing wail of the cat that draws me to her house. The front door is wide open and the shutters are closed. I know she is still in there because her hunting boots are waiting for their owner at the footsteps of the door. I carefully push them aside and march inside. It is a very wrong idea, very wrong. She may emerge from inside anytime now, and what if I can't control my demons right now. All the times I wanted to kill her before, there were many people to control me, but now here we are alone with no one to stop us. I know she has never blamed me for my killing rage, but what if I can't stop myself now? What if the flashbacks return? I stop and take a deep breath before entering through the open doors. If she likes to kill me this time, I'll let her enter the bullet into my brain, letting it end forever.

The cat wails again and I clumsily push the wheelbarrow inside. My eyes trains the surroundings- small bushes grow here and there, thick layers of dust covers the windows, it is hard to believe that someone actually live here. It looks more like a haunted house rather than the old victor's home. I carefully select the site where the roses can be planted. Not in the front so that it can pain her sight, and not too far away so that her vigilant soul can guard her always.

I take the shovel out of the wheelbarrow and begin digging. The ash covers the soil in thick layers so that the bones. I feel the tears flowing from my eyes as I continue digging but I don't want to wipe them away.

The pale light starts shading the darkness, I don't stop. Even I don't stop when I hear a pair of busy footsteps running straight toward me.

Then the footsteps stop right beside me. As the wind swirls around us, I feel her fragrance in the air. I breath in, it is so familiar.

"You are back." A very familiar voice speaks. That voice makes me to look up only to find the face I want to see. I gaze into her eyes and she does so, but there is a strange look in them that I can't fathom. Her cheeks are wet. Of course, she has been crying. Her eyes are red, but her face wears a strange look that she has when she is angry or anxious or perplexed. She looks like that she wants to scream at me.

Am I alright either?

The inner demons have begun muttering inside me from the moment I saw her. It is still provoking me to wrap my fingers around her delicate neck, take the revenge of the death of my family. I know it is will come. The clouds are covering my brain. My hand makes a tight fist around the handle of the shovel. I grit my teeth, trying hard to swallow the rising pain inside me. I want to run away; at least I think when the cloud continues growing thicker. But I don't. Even it surprises me when I become able to speak with her normally. "Dr. Aurelius wouldn't let me leave the Capitol until yesterday," I say. "By the way, he said to tell you he can't keep pretending he's treating you forever. You have to pick up the phone."

She huffs as if she is trying to swallow the scream that she has reserved for me. My inner instincts make me to frown at her next step. My whole body tenses because still I expect an angry scream from her. But no, she pushes her hair back out of her eyes although they are matted with sweat and tries to smile. The morning sun has shaded side of her face, creating a strange pattern over there. All on a sudden I realize that she is gorgeous, really gorgeous- like a memory that is still hazy in my mind.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

For a moment I can't speak. What I must say? I look at the bushes in the wheelbarrow and suddenly I realize she is asking about them. Fear clouds my heart. What I must say?

"I went to the woods this morning and dug these up. For her," I reply, not daring to utter the name of the plants. "I thought we could plant them along the side of the house."

Her eyes move to the bushes, from the leaves to the roots, to the mud still clinging to their roots. Her mouth opens a little as if she is gasping for air, her eyes widen when she registers the name of the plants- the evening Primrose.

"Why did you bring them here?" she says, pulling the words, letter by letter. She looks tired.

"I just thought…." I try to reply, not daring to meet her eyes.

"Don't try to defend yourself, Peeta." She gives me a nod of assent as she reaches for the door. I throw away the shovel and try to reach for her, but I hesitate. My inner demons are not gone yet. My brains are becoming clouded again and I feel my hands twitching once more. They are coming. Every yelling, every bad memory brings them back. What if I can't keep myself in control when I touch her? What if ? What if? Those hesitations keep my feet rooted to the ground.

"Go away, Peeta. Go." She keeps yelling vicious things at me as she locks the door behind her.

I stand there, alone with the scraggly bushes and half dug holes. The sky is covered with grey cloud. The warmth of the sun is overtaken by the cold stormy wind. Like my mind which is hijacked by Capitol. Even after the long treatment they don't leave me completely.

Pain overtakes my whole beings and I can't stand them anymore. I want to kill something, break something right now. The inner demons are not gone yet. I can hear her screams coming from inside, which set my flashbacks on motion. She is crying, and I am trembling here with the fear and anxiety. At last the demons win. I collapse to the ground. I grab at the primrose brushes, crushing them until they are torn into many tiny pieces.

It is the coldness of the rain which brings me back to the reality. I open my eyes long enough to take the surroundings. The rain water has created a small pool around me, leaving me dipping wet. I look at the ruins I've created myself. The holes are unplanted and the primroses lies beside them battered, dead.

I look up at the windows of her room where she still lives. I catch a glimpse of her though the window, watching the rain. She is still crying. Right then her eyes catches me.

"Peeta." She calls from the window "You are so wet. Come inside."

There is no trace of anger in her voice now; instead there is a strange sympathy in her tone. I've heard this tone in her voice, in some lost times, I can't remember.

Still I know she wants to save me like I want to save her.

But how? Both of us are so broken, how can we save each other?

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	3. Dipping wet

"Why you are here, Peeta?"

My head shots up with the question from her familiar inquiring tone. Her eyes are reflecting the fire before us and there is no shadow of the yelling girl of this morning. She hands me a towel and after some hesitating moment I actually accept it. She watches me as I wipe away every drop of rainwater from my hair, face and arms; I feel slightly weird as her eyes follow my every action. It is a different feeling that I can't explain. I want her to stay but at the same time I want her to stay away from me. For a moment the memory of the night when she tried to stab me in the cave flashes across my mind, but right then I try to shake that thought away from my head. No, it's not true, I tell myself. It is so shiny, so distorted, and I know it is false. Still those grey orbs stay vigil inside me like two moons in the night sky.

"Thank you." I hand the towel back to her. Her skin brushes mine, and a familiar tingling sensation passes through my nerves, I try to ignore that. All the shiny memories try to invade my mind again; I shake them away and remain where I am.

"You've not answered my question?" she asks again. Her voice is now soft, almost velvety; her tone reminds me of the way she used to speak when we were in the games. Which one is real? This or those shiny memories where she yells at me? I don't know.

"I've to go." Instead of answering her question, I carefully head towards the door that is only a few steps away from me. She doesn't try to stop me. But I can feel that her eyes are still following me as I climb downstairs.

When I reach home, I throw myself in my bed without taking off the wet clothes. I'm tired, really tired. I close my eyes. I really need some sleep.

Unfortunately sleep decides to abandon me for that night. After tossing and turning several times in the bed I decide to take a walk outside. It is dark, too dark, even the moon is hiding behind the clouds. I cross the victor's village and find my way to the open field-the meadow. That once green field is now nothing but a ruin, pile of ashes. There are ashes everywhere. Wind swirls around me, spreading a thin layer of grey ash over my messy hair. An eerie silence surrounds me. The always crowded district 12 is nothing but a silent graveyard. When I reach in the middle of the meadow, my feet stop. There is no light, except three flickering rays coming from the victor's village. It is a graveyard. But what I am doing in this graveyard? Why I came back? There is no parent to welcome me. There is no brother or his cruel jokes. There is no girl waiting to welcome me in her warm embrace. Then why I am here?

I shout out the question. No answer. Only my own voice keeps coming back to me, mocking me. I know there is no reason to be here for me but still I came back here. Then why? I turn back to return to my own house-the victor's village. When I cross the boundary wall, my feet betray me. Instead of my house, I find myself standing in front of the gate where I don't want to be. Hypnotized, I walk past the dead primroses and the half dug holes, the shaggy bushes and at last I stop at her doorstep.

To my surprise it opens and an elderly smiling face peeps through the door- Greasy Sae. "Peeta." She welcomes me with her usual cheerful tone "Are you here to join us in the dinner?"

It takes me a few minutes to recover. Suddenly I realize, I'm standing at Katniss's door. Oh, no!

"Will you?" She asks again.

"No." I shake my head violently. No way, I've to stay away from her as much as possible. I'm not supposed to get involved with her anymore, especially emotionally. It will take away the rest of the sanity I have. "No." I am about to turn back, then a voice from behind stops me.

"You look famished, Peeta."

It is Katniss and she has followed Greasy Sae to the door. A napkin is still tied around her neck, which means that she is having her dinner.

"I'm not." I shake my head again, without turning back "I've my dinner ready back at home."

That is a pure lie, I know. I've nothing to eat at my home. Even I've not lighten a single bulb this evening.

"Don't try to lie, Peeta." I can hear her voice, mixed with sympathy and command. "I can that in your face."

How much I want to rush near her and crush her lips in a kiss. But no, I stay where I am. Even I try to take another step forward. Right then a soft hand clasps around my upper arm like a warm, velvet manacle, sending a strange tingling sensation though my spine.

"Don't lie anymore, Peeta." Her voice is firm and commanding. And for the second time in one day I can't ignore the request of my one and only enemy.

"Alright." I follow her inside.

It is a strange dinner. Not a candlelight dinner that you usually have with your girlfriend. Both of us remain usually silent through the dinner while Greasy Sae serves the dishes. The food is unusually tasty- roasted squirrel, deer curry. Unfortunately there is no bread in the dish. A small smile crosses my lips. Breads are not available in the woods. Unknowingly my eyes travels to the girl before me- the way her mouth moves with the each bites she takes, the way her hands moves when she cuts the meats into pieces, the way the light creates a mysterious pattern upon her face. For the first time, I can see her beyond those shiny memories, and all of a sudden I realize that she is beautiful.

"Peeta, what are you seeing?" she notices my admiring gaze, her voice is firm. Her lips are usually kissable. All I want to touch her right now. But I swallow the desire; I fold my hands into my lap and try to smile. Her eyes clouds with the doubt.

"I'm just thinking, one thing is missing here." I try to light the tension.

"What?" the doubts are not cleared yet.

"Bread." I say without tearing my gaze away from her "Possibly they don't grow in the woods?"

Slowly and very slowly the doubts clear off her face and a bright smile crosses her lips. "Unfortunately, they don't." Her eyes shine with mirth "Will you grow them for me?"

In an unconscious moment, her feet brushes against mine, sending the familiar chill through my spine. That way, that way- didn't she break my leg in the games? She was the one for whom I had to lose my leg. The inner demon begins wailing again, the shiny memories begin clouding my vision. Possibly my face twitches a little, as well as my hands.

"I like cheese buns." She keeps saying "Do you remember that you'd made them for me?"

The clouds are growing thicker, I can't think anymore. Unknowingly I grasp a corner of the table, push back the chair and stand up. She notices my unusual reaction because I hear her concerned voice "Peeta, is it alright?"

She is coming nearer, and the cloud is growing thicker. I can smell her, but it isn't flowery; instead it is like a rotten flesh. Her face is transforming, melting. Oh, no, I can't take anymore.

"Peeta.." she is coming closer. If she takes another step near me, I don't know if I can keep the control.

"Don't." I stagger near the door. Fortunately my vision isn't clouded yet. "Don't come any closer." I say huskily.

"But.." she tries to say. I don't know what her facial expression is because I can't see her anymore. Without answering her question I open the door and rush through the stairs to live with my nightmares.

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	4. Bones and kisses

Through the windows I see them coming- the new inhabitants of twelve. The train has arrived this morning and I hoped for some baking materials, but no, it carried a few more people instead. Last night when I came back to my senses, I suddenly realized that we are all alone in this huge district. All alone except Haymitch- if you count him among the living people. There are two broken children and a drunk babysitter (I found him drunk in his house in each of my visit to his home) living in this maddening loneliness, so it is good to have some more.

To say the truth, I like people, and actually I'm bored living with these bones around me. So it is good to see some flesh and blood around us. Quickly, I pick up my boots that are still lying on the floor, pay no attention to the crumpled shirt or the messy hair from the nightmares of the last night and head straight to the coming bunch of inhabitants. After the incident of the last night at her house, I'm sure she is one of the triggers which can induce the flashback. And now I realize that it will be wise to stay away from her. I'm really tired of living with those horrible flashbacks and I do cherish for a normal life. And with her, my life will never be normal because either of us will end up in killing another.

I scan the new bunch of faces- teary, broken with dark circles under their eyes. Many of them have lost their near ones in during the bombing or during the war. Pain torments their faces as they take every step on the ground of twelve, their wounded hearts bleed again. There are families, single person, children and many others. I don't know most of them but somehow I feel myself linked with them. We all share same pains, same fates, same demons to drive us mad. It is hard for each and everyone to return here, still they return because it is always good to be home. Among the faces, I recognize one- a stout, strong built man with an always smiling face. Thom. Possibly he recognizes me too, because I see him walking straight to me.

"Peeta," He tried to smile, although very much strained. "You here?" It is not a question, just a self talk. Like all the other rebels he also expects me to choose a better place, so it may be surprises him too.

"Yeah! Just for the sake of old memories." I reply, taking his friendly hand that is eager to meet mine. "And you?"

His expression darkens. I know it must be hard being here for him too. "For the bones." He chokes; a stray tear shines at the corner of his eyes. He quickly realizes that, wipes them away and then looks at me. "You look well, Peeta. I hope Capitol is fantastic." He wraps his right arm around my shoulder as we both begin to walk. "So I hope you'll share some of your experiences there." he says.

He is trying to change the topic, but I really don't like that. Instead my mind hangs to the bones. I quickly settle my hand upon his upper arm and say. "But Thom, you are saying something about the bones."

"That's an old topic, Peeta." He tries to sound casual. "My wife and children are under those ashes. I came here to give them a proper burial. That's all." A false enthusiasm shines in his eyes "That's a boring story. Let's talk about something else."

"When you'll start your task?" I'm not willing to change the topic. So I stand in front of him and cross my arms over my chest "I want to know."

Thom cringes at my hard glare. It's one of the changes after the hijacking. I'm not that sweet behaved Peeta anymore. Now I can be angry and I'm not afraid to show that to anyone. "It has already started, from the Mayor's house." Then he gives me a concerned look "But Peeta, you must not go there. It may trigger your flashbacks."

Anger surges through my body. I've enough flashback in my life. Everything can trigger that horrible thing, the list is so long. Katniss, bones, games, strings, needles… Now I've enough. I grasp Thom's hand tightly. "I've to bury my family too." My voice is so harsh. Thom gives me a frightened look; I know he fears that I'm entering into another episode. "I've learned to deal with that, Thom." I say quietly.

Thom's eye softens. He also has his own demons. May be he also deals with them every day. "Alright." He pats my arm "Let's go."

He takes me to the meadow. Alright it is not that meadow anymore. It's a pile of ashes now, horribly distorted, burnt like me and my memories. Near the square a team of masked and gloved people are digging a hole; some of them are gathering bones in a horse-drawn cart. Some of them gathered around Thom, with some burnt remains in their hands. Silently he takes them, tears well up from his grey eyes and land on the ground in the fat drops. There are many others, sitting silently beside the remains. None of them are crying anymore. Those horrible days robbed us off our tears. When they see me they nod curtly and without any word they lead me near a pile of bones at a corner.

"That's all we gathered from the bakery." One of them says quietly. Without words I walk near them. A pile of bones- muddy, rotten, horribly stinking. There is no way to say that these people lived, loved, smiled, cried with me once. Unknowingly I pick up a skull from the pile. I can't tell if it belongs to my kind, loving, gentle father or the joking, lively brothers or the stern, stubborn mother. Those hollow eyes look back at me, telling the moments when they were burnt alive. Tears blur my vision. No, no flashback. I fall on my knees and for the first time. I cry. For myself, for my family.

"Did they find anyone in there?" my head snaps with a familiar voice.

Katniss.

"No, I can't meet her." I remind myself. Still my eyes decide not to follow the reminder. Through the blurred vision I find her moving near the cart standing near the Mayor's house.

"Whole family. And the two people who worked for them," Thom replies. I hear her soft gasp. "Medge!" I know she has always a soft place for her. In the truth she was her only friend at school. I often found them eating together in the Tiffin time while I was surrounded by friends. Did she notice me then? Well, let me think. I remember her songs. Fortunately Capitol can't distort those sweet memories.

"I thought maybe, since he was the mayor..." she keeps saying, very pale on lips. She looks sick and dizzy as if she will collapse at any moment. A part of my whole being screams to go by her side, hold her till the demons are gone, cry on her shoulder until our eyes turn red. Another part of mine holds me rooted to the ground, keeps saying about her demonic features. Shiny memories begins clouding vision again, I look away from her, desperately not wanting to see her face turning into something distorted, or horrible.

I hear her soft gasps time to time, skirting around the holes they dug to bury those bones. I feel the sorrow, those fears radiating from her. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push away those shiny memories. I don't know if she still has nightmares or what she does to drive them away. A part of mine wants to hold her again while another part wants to strangle her for everything. This is her fault, isn't it? My whole family lays before me- the dead, charred bones. Who has done that?

"Katniss." The demon says.

"No." I shut it up. "She has nothing to do with it. She has lost her family too."

"No, she did."

"No.." I say.

That inner struggle may continue if not it is interrupted with Thom's voice. "Peeta, it is done."

I open my eyes to his words and find the pits are filled with the soil once again. No bone, no death.

I scan the returning people around me with the hope to catch a glimpse of Katniss, but I don't see her anywhere. Unwillingly, I ask Thom "Where is Katniss?"

"She is gone long ago." He says in a worried tone. "She looked so pale and her eyes were so red. She was so sick that she couldn't even walk. I gave her a ride home in dead people's cart."

The news instantly shakes me. Katniss? Sick? Oh, my…

The next moment I find myself heading towards her house. The front door is open and Greasy Sae's worried face peers through it. Buttercup hisses at my feet. And without word I head right towards her room. At first I'm torn about going in to there. I doubt I'll be very welcome after all that has happened.

"She just collapses." Greasy Sae says from behind. I nod curtly as I march inside her room. I know I shouldn't do this at all. The girl is now helpless, powerless. If I attack her, she will have no power to save herself. Even though I don't think Katniss blames me for the times I tried to kill her, sometimes I think she should. There was a part of me that wanted her to kill me, wanted to feel the momentary pain of the bullet entering my brain and ending it all. I find her sprawling on the floor, her hair is scraggly, and face presses on the cold floor. My chest tightens at the scene. Many and many shiny memories start gathering as I kneel beside her. I'm not sure if she is still alive. It takes a much effort from my side before I decide to touch her. I push the false memories away and try to focus upon the girl lying before me.

"She is sick." I tell myself "She can't do any harm."

Carefully I take her hand and press my fingers on her pulse. A sigh escapes from my throat when it ticks under my finger.

Buttercup is hissing, growling at me. Or maybe he's growling at Katniss. That cat never liked her, but he rarely gave me any notice at all.

"I'm not hurting her." I snap at him and his growl changes into kitchen mew. I gather Katniss in my arms and carry her towards the bed. Tears stain her face, maybe she was crying. She is incredibly light and more of all she is burning up. The demons start raging inside me, I don't care. Shiny memories cloud my thought, I push them away. I lay her gently on the bed, pull the cover to her chest, and tuck her gently. My hands twitch, I don't pay attention. I try my concentration focused on the sick girl lying before me.

When she is tucked down, I start to leave. I can't stay here for another second or I'll kill her for sure.

Right then a warm hand grasps my arm like a velvet manacle. "Stay." A harsh voice says.

I turn abruptly against my will to find her eyes looking at me. They are so red, so cloudy; I wonder if she can recognize me.

"Stay." She says again, still disoriented.

I try to blame her sickness but I can't ignore her command. Enchanted, I fall on my knees beside her. Her eyes are incredibly bright from the fever, cheeks are flushed and her lips are slightly trembling. She wants to say something.

A surge of emotions rush inside me- a strange mixture of anger, fear, shiny memories and old ones. Once again she looks like the girl digging the garbage cans for foods- troubled, hungry. Inner demons stop yelling suddenly as I take her hand.

"Don't talk." I say. She says nothing but keeps watching me with her over bright eyes. Her lips trembles again as she struggles to say something.

"No." I say as my fascinated gaze moves over her. Her dark hair tumbles over her shoulders in a gloriously untidy mass of the mysterious darkness, framing a face of heartbreaking beauty. And then I don't know what happens inside me. I lean forward and grab her lips in an endless, drugging kiss that steals my breath and stuns her into immobility. Slowly she also begins to respond, her lips melt against mine. Suddenly guilt and confusion consume my heart. What I'm doing? It must not happen. We are friends or enemies or anything but not lovers. Without warning, I pull myself away from her.

'Peeta." I find her saying, voice still shocked from the suddenness.

Quickly I stand up from her bedside and start leaving without looking at her face. "I better call Dr. Aurelius."

It is a mistake; I think and promise myself not to make another again.

**Reviews? Faves? Follows? If you like it, please drop your thoughts in the review box. I also like FAVES and Follows.**

**About spelling, we use both UK spellings (Like** **Favour** **instead of Favor) and USA spellings (sorry for the accent, English isn't my native language). I always try to check them with dictionary before posting (Still the grammar is my weakness, I admit. I beg you to consider it kindly). I'm sorry for all the errors, typos and lack of fluency. Still if you notice any don't hesitate to inform me, I'll try to correct them.**


	5. Nightmares and flashbacks

Dr. Aurelius is not available on the phone; he is off to some kind of conference, and his secretary assures me that he'll be back within three days. Well, that's very good news. When I turn, I find Greasy Sae watching me anxiously. "What we must do now?" she asks. I'm about to tell her that, it is none of my business, but feeling the worry covering her face, I say, "Let's see, what we can do." My eyes catch the sick girl lying in the bed, pale and exhausted, and suddenly I begin to feel very helpless. The darkness is falling, and I've actually planned to get back to my house by now. But seeing her almost unconscious form, my feet don't agree with me. I move inside, settle myself beside her and forcefully make myself to look at her face. Dried tears stain her cheeks, she has been crying of course. The grafts on her arms are lusterless and dry, as if she isn't following the doctor's orders and her lips are so pale. I place my hand on her forehead, although I've promised myself not to touch her again, only a moment ago. It takes a lot of efforts from my side to take this decision while I continue to fight my inner demons, but still I touch her, feel the burning warmth of her skin.

What I can do? My medical knowledge is no better than a fifth grader, and I can't decide what to do. It's Katniss who is supposed to know something about this field but when it is my turn, I feel almost hopeless. Well, I must do something for her before it gets worse. So, I decide to find someone with some medical knowledge. I rise from her bedside, and turn to Greasy Sae, "You better keep an on her. I'm going to find someone to help us." The old woman nods worriedly, and softly presses my wrist. I can feel her real good wishes for her. This woman loves Katniss and feels for her. Suddenly a strange pain begins to squeeze my heart. Still there is someone who thinks about her. But what about me? There is no one to think about me, or stay with me when I'm sick, or sing a lullaby when I scream in my sleep. I've just buried my whole family in the graveyard. There is no one for me, except…Katniss. That sounds weird when we are acting like two sworn enemies living in so close proximity. But it is true that she is the only one who is still the living part of my hijacked memory. I can't let her die on me; I'm tired of the death.

I storm out of her house and make my way over Haymitch. As usual, I find his door locked from the inside. Even after knocking for almost half an hour, he doesn't bother to answer. "Haymitch." I bellow, impatiently. "Are you alive or dead?"

That old man is dead for sure. "Damn." I curse. "You better die and rot here." With anger, with fury, when I am about to kick his door in order to break in, it opens with a little click and Haymitch's sleepy face peers in. "Can't you ever leave me in peace, boy?"

I'm not surprised with the fact, that he hasn't told me to come inside. I stand at the door and cross my arms over my chest, "You're supposed to look after Katniss?"

He raises an eyebrow. "I thought you're doing that, lover boy." He replies sarcastically. Angers surges through my beings, and suddenly my fingers begin to itch with the irresistible desire to strangle him, but I swallow the desire. "What do you mean?" I ask calmly.

"Well, I saw you planting the roses in her house, having dinners with her. " Sarcasm dips from his voice. "I'm not blind, lover boy."

"No, I don't care about her." I bust out, "But I can't leave the girl dying alone when Dr. Aurelius isn't available for the next three days. And I've no idea what to do." I'm almost shaking with anger, anxiety and what not. In the answer, I find his brows rising a little higher. "No one dies from the fever, boy." He says in a quiet voice, "Go back to her room and find her prescriptions. And don't say that you don't care about her, because it is a pure lie." Then without another word he slams the door on my face, leaving me confused and baffled.

Do I care about her? That's a tricky question. "She loves Gale, not you. Then why you should care for her?" The demon says. I know it is true and I can't change it. But something inside me is telling to care about her. "She is just a sick girl," I say to the demon. "And we are just friends."

The demon is not much convinced, it keeps muttering. I push away those shiny memories from my head when I reach home. I find Greasy Sae waiting for me anxiously. When I stagger inside, she rushes near me. "The fever is increasing." She says "What I must do, Peeta?"

The inner struggle gets stronger when I peep inside her room, and find her lying unconsciously in the bed. I push the shiny memories away that try to cover my brain in each time I reach for Katniss, and cautiously feel her forehead. She is burning up. "Please, check her prescription." I instruct Greasy Sae. As the little woman rushes to the other room, I collapse in a nearby chair. What a tiring day! My brain is the battlefield of many, many old and new memories. I feel my vision is clouding again. It's not so easy staying with her in the same room. My whole body screams for the silence of my own room. When Greasy Sae returns with the prescription and the medicine box, I push the shiny memories aside and reach for the drugs. I don't know how long I can go on like this, but I must keep control of myself, for her, for me. I scan through the names of the drugs and finally find the appropriate one. I grab a blue capsule from the box and move beside the unconscious girl sprawling in the bed. She looks so vulnerable right now, that I almost begin to feel sorry for her.

"Here, Katniss." I slip my arm behind her neck and lift her head off the pillow, even with my twitching hand. "Take it." Slowly she opens her mesmerizing grey eyes; it takes her long enough to take me in.

"Peeta, why you are doing these for me?" She sounds guilty. "You look so exhausted."

"Hush." I press my finger over her lips, although my inside is burning with the wild desire to kiss her. I swallow the desire and whisper, "It's alright. Just take this." She gives me a disbelieving look; as if she is in still doubt that if I'm going to kill her. After a long moment, she swallows her pills, and closes her eyes.

"Thank you." She says without looking at me. "You've done enough for me, Peeta. You better rest now. Greasy Sae will look after me."

That's all I want to do now, but somehow I can't live with the fact of leaving her sick form alone in this haunted house. Possibly it's the toughest decision I've made since my return to the twelve.  
"No, I'm staying." I say. She gives me a puzzled look, as if trying to register if I'm not planning to kill her at night. I'm out of my mind for sure, still I don't know why, I say softly, moving a stray hair from her pale face, "Just to keep an eye on you."

"Alright." She replies in a doubtful voice and drifts into the sleep.

It isn't easy for me to reach the decision. I know when she also finds the truth, she will feel uneasy too, but still I just can't leave the sick girl alone in this haunted house. May be, Haymitch is right. Still, I do care for her. As the night falls, I arrange the blankets, tuck her with it, and when she is tucked effectively, I concentrate on my own sleeping arrangement. I can sleep in another room, but after moving around the house aimlessly for three or four times, I decide to sleep in her room. I take some extra blankets from the closet and drag the rocking chair, set it five feet away from her bed and sink into it. She is sleeping like a baby now. The moonlight has created a strange pattern upon her face; I can hardly look away. She moans sleepily as the light pricks her eyes; I move near the window and draw the blinds. Again the darkness engulfs us. It's like the cave, as far as I can remember our games. Among those shiny memories, I try to find out the real one, but no. there is none. I feel my hands twitching, so I look away from her face before she ends up into something horrible.

I can hardly sleep. Every time I close my eyes, the bones come to haunt me down- sometime my parents, sometimes my brothers and al last slowly it turns into Katniss. Blood is dipping from her mouth while she is trying to slit my throat. She moves closer, and her mouth distorts with a horrible laugh… I jolt awake.. Someone is screaming. Who? Wait, why my blinds are grey? Slowly my head clears off the cloud, I'm in her room. Wearily I turn only to find her tossing and turning restlessly in her bed, the sheets are crumpled and a soft moan is escaping from her mouth. Tonight, she isn't strong enough to cry out loud that can trigger the flashbacks, still it is enough to make my body tensed and my fingers began twitching. The clouds are clouding my vision again. I know I'm about to enter into another flashback episode. I can't get near her, even I can't move. I can't forgive myself I do something wrong with her tonight. So, I watch her helplessly tossing and turning and at the point her weak body is about to slip out from the bed.

"Katniss…" I don't know what happens inside me. Despite the clouded vision and twitching fingers, I reach for her. I can't make through the way, I fell on my knees. Still I strode toward her bedside, and frantically wrap my arms around her. My fingers are itching to reach for her throat, still I convince myself out from that desire and I hold her while she continues thrashing in my arms. I hold her, despite those shiny memories keep invading my consciousness, and tell her that it is ok, while she at last decides to open her eyes.

"Peeta, you're still here?" She asks, still shaken from the nightmares. I've not much reserve in my faculty to speak, so I only shake my head, feel her forehead with my twitching hand only to find it hot and dry. The capsule has no effect. What I must do? Take her to the hospital? Her grafts are so dry and shriveled. I'm afraid; if I touch her she'll break. Suddenly of nowhere I'm scared that she is going to die.

Confusion mars her face, as she can feel the fear in my expressions. "You don't look good." She says, concerned, "You better.." she reaches for me, but I flinch backward. I need to keep a safe distance from her.

"Have you looked at yourself lately…' I can't finish my words; the pain in my head is too much to bear. "Your skin grafts are too dry and in terrible shape. We should get you to the hospital." My voice is still strained.

She looks up at me with lost eyes. "I can't leave."

I shake my hand, my vision is too much clouded right now, and I still fight through it. "I can't see you die from the infection. May be I can give you some shots for it…" I try to continue as I search for the syringes blindly inside the box. Even in all these haziness I remember the time when Katniss gave me a shot to cure the infection of my wound during the first games. When I find, my hand is already shaking violently. Syringes also accelerate the episodes.

Katniss tries to help me. "Give me that. I can give it myself." But she can't make it. She is too weak to even hold the syringes properly.

When the last needle is withdrawn from her thigh, my mind completely loses control over my body. My hand shakes so violently that the syringe drops on the floor. I grab at the chair, to steady myself. The pain is too much to bear. The whole room is changing, white walls are turning into the glass walls of the Capitol laboratory, many and many faceless bodies begin to advance near me… My whole body is shaking from head to the toe. I can't keep myself in the standing position. I am about to collapse on the floor.

Right then a pair of arms encircles me, a pair of bright grey eyes looks into mine. They are not cruel, but they are soft, they were pleading, they are full of sympathy for me.. The arms are toasty warm, no I am wrong, it is more than warm, and it's overly hot because she is burning up with the fever.

"Go away." I try to warn her, but she doesn't lose her hold on me.

"You're in twelve. Not in Capitol. Stay here, it is your home." She whispers. Her voice is full of pain.. or love…no I'm wrong again. "I'm trying." Through all the haziness, somehow I'm able to respond to her plea. She is still burning up and I'm still fighting my flashbacks. But none of us lose our holds on one another. That's strange. Really, really strange.

Is it real or not?


	6. Dimensions

Greasy Sae smiles as I walk through the long corridor that leads to the kitchen, exactly her kitchen. Her smile widens when I place the loaf of bread in her hands.

"Cheese buns!" Joy sparkles in her eyes. "Katniss will love them." In the answer I shake my head accompanied by a small smile, and make my way through the corridor. Katniss has a special fascination over the cheese buns and I always love to make them. A week and five more days have passed since that dreadful night, when both of us were seeking comfort to each other. Both of us were out of our minds then, but one thing became clear that night, that none of us can avoid each other as much as we try. That realization has a dramatic effect upon our strange relationship- not to the extent we shared during the games but yet it's better to know that none of us going to kill one another. We start talking the following day without hesitation. And we begin to visit each other. Company sometimes helps to lessen our sorrows.

"You better ask her about your confusions." Dr Aurelius said in our last session "Things will become clearer then." He is right. My brain is the battlefield of so many memories; I can hardly know which one is true or which one is false. So this is the time to ask her that.

A soft humming sound coming from her room makes me to stop at the door. It is strange; I've never heard her sing since I returned here. I make another step close to the door, the curtains are not drawn, and curiously I peep inside to see something completely unearthly. There she is, standing in front of the full length mirror, water dripping from her wet hair; her bare back is facing mine. A towel hugs her torso so gently, yet so gracefully, reaching only to her mid-thigh, leaving her legs completely bare. I've never seen the scars where the fire licked her body. They are so tragic, so beautiful, somehow she matches mine. Scarred and broken, what an odd pair we are. I lean against the doorframe, not wanting to interrupt this unearthly sight, feed my eyes with her scarred beauty. Desire burns inside me; I know it happens whenever I set her eyes upon her. I don't know why. What is our actual relationship?

Friends..tribute…partners…alley…enemies…lovers…what?

"Peeta." Her stern voice breaks the lines of my thoughts. I tear my gaze from her bare legs, shift them to her face. Her face is red from embarrassment, this time she has wrapped herself in a longer towel, tightly hugging to her chest. "Why you're sneaking in my room?" She asks, although her voice shakes a little. Her face glows with anger, sending another wave of desire through me.

To see you, I want to say, but quickly I swallow the words and say, "I didn't know that you are almost na..ahem..well." Blood surges to my face as I skip the word; I turn immediately to hide the blush, "Well, Greasy Sae didn't tell me." Then I turn and begin heading to the dining room, "Well, I'm waiting for you at the dining table."

I want to ask the question now, but I think it is wise to skip it for a while.

At first I start as a periodic visitor, now I visit her almost every day. According to Dr. Aurelius it is necessary to learn trusting her to keep the flashbacks in check. Medicine can't alone do that. I learn to keep busy with my baking. I make breads, pastries. Things arrive almost every week from Capitol. I'm learning to keep busy.

A soft footstep entering into the dining room makes my head snap. I find Katniss entering into the room, dressed in a dark green shirt and grey pants, but nothing can be compared to her naked beauty. Her face is still clouded, but she takes the seat beside me. Her eyes light up a little when she sees the cheese buns, and then they are gone. Silently she takes a portion in her plate, and offers the rest of it to me. I'm dying with her silence, and my guilt. So I decide to break the ice first. "I'm sorry."

She raises her eyes from her plate and gazes at me, still silent. The silence is killing me. "Well," I say again. "Dr. Aurelius says; silence triggers my flashbacks. And now my fingers are itching to strangle you. Do you want me to strangle you? Do you?"

Slowly, very a smile laces her lips. "No, surely not." She laughs. It disappears as soon as it appears, "Have you seen my scars?" Her voice is so sad. I want to lie, or console her but seeing the tears shining at the corner of her eyes, I decide to tell the truth. "Yes."

"Are they ugly?"

My lips twitch with a small smile. I don't know this self conscious Katniss. I hide my smile and look into her eyes. "No, I think they are beautiful." Then I show her my burnt arm, covered with scars. "Look, I've them too."

Her eyes dance, her fingers shake with the desire to touch my scars, but soon she tucks her hands in her lap. The cloud is gone, and her voice sounds so light. "Oh, Peeta, don't sneak into my room like that again. Or I'll turn into an Avox next time."

"If you turn into an Avox, then who will make the birds stop with your song?"

"You like my song?" She asks, doubtfully.

"Of course." I reply. I want to tell her that I also like her singing when she is almost naked, but once again I swallow the words. Those feelings are not accepted right now, since we stop pretending long ago. So there is no place for such feelings. We continue eating without further talks, while my eyes continue moving on her scars and grafts.

"I gather, you start answering Dr. Aurelius's calls?" I ask.

"Hmmm…" She takes another mouthful of cheese buns. "That man works miracle. He gives me more medicines to improve my mood."

"I can see that." I smile. Yes, after that night she is changed dramatically. She starts hunting again. I don't know if she still has nightmares, but still she looks good. "I think I must learn to keep busy." She continues "May be hunting, may be.." She turns her gaze upon me. "But what about you, Peeta?"

I've lie at the tip of my tongue, but this time I better stop lying. I turn my gaze to the fire, as the log explodes. "I've some questions."

Puzzlement covers her beautiful face as she continues staring at me. I ignore her gaze and continue. "My brain is full of so many false memories. It's hard to find the true ones." I know these confessions will make me more vulnerable, yet I need to get rid of them. "I've so many shiny memories about you, about all the people around me, I can't remember the truth. I'm tired of lies and flashbacks. It makes me feel like a man without any identity. I'm….I'm…." Tear clogs in my throat, I can't speak anymore. She scoots closer, her warmth ravishes me.

"It's alright, Peeta," she whispers, her voice is so raw. Slowly I tilt my face, look into her eyes, they are so soft. I can hardly believe that the same girl has killed my family. My false memories tell me so, but my brain rejects the thought. "You can ask me whatever you need to know."

I blink, once…twice.. This is not the Katniss I used to see in my nightmares. She is different.

"Ask." She waits.

Which question should I ask? There are many of them. But one of them is burning me most. I gaze into her eyes and wait. Another log explodes; the low fire is dancing in her eyes. May be she is the only reason of my return. May be she is the last string which attaches me close to my sanity. May be, she is something more.

Friends..lovers…tributes…enemies…alley…what are we? We aren't enemies, that'd become clear after that night. We are not lovers either. Then what are we?

"What are we?" I whisper.

"What?" her head snaps, confusion mars her face. "What?"

I look straight into her eyes and ask again. "What are we? Friends? Lovers? Enemies? What are we?"

She looks into my eyes, gazes into mine for the answer. I can read the confusions in her eyes. I know, she can't deny her love for Gale nor she can consider me as a lover. She is torn, she is broken. At last she lowers her eyes and whispers, "I don't know."

"That's not an answer." I deny her firmly, looking straight into her eyes again. "You must tell me what we are actually."

Slowly she raises her face, and smiles. "May be we can start as friends and then see how far it can go." I nod. It's a good suggestion. None of us are sure about the dimensions of our relationship, but we can wait. May be time will determine the true dimension of our relationship.

"I'm sorry for kissing you that day."

"The kiss wasn't that bad."

"I'm sorry for sneaking into your room when you're naked."

"It's ok. But please warn me in future."

Then, for the first time in a very long time, she reaches for me voluntarily. I hesitate, staring at her hand for a long minute until a sort of shiver runs across my shoulders. My body tenses in alarm, false memories cloud my vision but I move them aside, press the new ones in front. Even my hand twitches a little when I slide my fingers into hers. I feel her stiffening in my touch, while she tries to relax and at last we both end up in a smile.

It is hard, really hard for both of us; still it is the only way to explore the true dimensions of our relationship.

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	7. Healing

She shows up exactly when I've finished baking the breads and start thinking about making a cake. Breads and breads…too tiring. Right then she storms inside, a big smile is plastered on her face, her hands are behind her back. I've never seen her so enthusiastic in the last few weeks.

"Hey," I wave at her from the kitchen, covered with flour and all the other ingredients, "I guess, it was a great hunting day."

"Yeah!" Katniss moves near the dining table, places a big bowl on it. As soon as she removes the cover, the whole kitchen fills up with the delicious fragrance of stew. "Umm.." I inhale, as the fragrance trickles my nose. "It smells delicious."

"Guess what?" She settles herself in a nearby chair; her eyes are shining with joy.

"Squirrel?"

"No."

"Deer?"

"Not even close." She likes my defeat; her grin widens "Something with two legs."

"Turkey?" I make a wild guess, unable to move my eyes away from her. She is still panting from the exertion, her face is tinted with red, sweats trickle down from her forehead, she is fanning herself with her hand in order to cool herself down, but still she looks so enchanting. Things begin to improve between us since the last week, we're learning to keep busy, answering Dr. Aurelius's calls, taking our medicines regularly, and we're talking. We talk when we eat; we talk when we find free times. Mostly I do the talking, and she answers. I've so many confusions, but she answers with so much patience, that amazes me. I start visiting her to deliver breads, and now she also visits me sometimes with squirrel roasts, deer stews etc and etc. Sometimes I wonder about the range of her preys. I guess I'll not be surprised if she comes up with the mocking jay stew someday. But today, it seems that the role has changed; she is asking questions and I'm playing the answering part.

"Am I right?"

"Yup.' She smiles, beginning to arrange the dishes on the table. "Now come on, I'm starving."

"Alright." I wash my hands and take off the apron, then move near the table. She has already covered the wooden table with a clean white table cloth, and is now cleaning all the discarded ingredients I'd left on the table earlier. I watch her carrying them to the trash can and disposing them.

"Eww.." She glares at me as she shakes the last piece of dirt away from the table. "Peeta, how can you be so..so.. careless?" Her brows are furrowed in a frown.

I like her scowls. I love when she yells at me; actually I guess her temper makes her more attractive. I cross my arms over my chest, and smile at her. A distant memory flashes in my brain- Katniss fussing over me, washing away all the pus from my legs, while wearing a deep frown on her face. The memory is so foggy, almost like a dream, but it is not so shiny. Again another picture crosses my mind; Katniss is slapping me in the cave for making her to suffer like this. No, she can't do that. I shake my head, trying to clear the cobwebs from my brain. My eyes follow the girl before me, she looks so friendly, and then my gaze moves to her lips. Her lips…

Another picture crosses my mind- Katniss is kissing me. On lips. Is it real?

"Peeta, Peeta.." her voice breaks the line of my thoughts, my head snaps as I look at her silvery eyes. "Peeta, are you having a flashback again?" She sounds anxious; worriedly she moves nearer and touches my right arm, sending unwanted tingles through my body. I try to ignore that, still watching her with utter confusion. Which one is true?  
"You've drained the pus from my injured leg." I look straight into her eyes. "Real or not real?" Her lip quivers with a faint smile, as I've asked the silliest question in the world. "Real." She replies.

"But you're squeamish, aren't you?" I look deeper into her eyes, searching for the truth.

"Yes." She is trying to keep her face straight. "But why this question, Peeta?"

"Because I remember that you slapped me for getting myself injured. Real or not?"

"Is that you remember, Peeta about our first games?" This time without answering, she bursts into laughter. I really like the sound of her laughter. "I guess so." I shake my head, helplessly, "But I don't believe that. I guess you kissed me instead. Is it real?"

Her smile fades, as she replies in a quiet voice. "Real."

"On lips?"

Dark clouds cover her sunny face, but the color in her cheeks isn't gone. "Yes." She replies quietly. Her tone says that she is saying the truth, and I know it is true. She is standing only an inch away from me with her warmth ravishing me; unwillingly my gaze falls to her lips- so graceful, so perfectly shaped. Suddenly I realize that we've not kissed in a very long time. I'm afraid that I've almost forgotten how a real kiss feels like. But I've promised her that we'll be nothing more than friends. And friends don't kiss on lips. But still why I can't tear my gaze from her lips? Why I feel a strong desire to kiss her whenever I see her? Katniss must've guessed that too, because she slides her hands up across my chest, and I lean forward automatically. I can feel her Goosebumps against my skin.

"No." My head jerks up with the sudden whisper coming from her lips. "Peeta, don't." Her voice sounds so hollow, her eyes are almost teary. It takes her a moment to gather much energy to push me away from her. "You've promised."

"Why Katniss?" I feel so disappointed. I know, I've promised to stay as her friend and nothing more, but in times it's really hard for me to check the emotions. She swallows, as she blinks back the tears. "Peeta, you know how much hard it for me. We've pretended long enough for cameras. They remind me of Capitol. Please, Peeta, don't make me to pretend again."

"Katniss!" I exclaim, but she has already covered her face with her hands and storms out of the room. I sit there alone; the stew remains untouched on the table, so the breads. My appetite is gone. Damn. I curse myself. Why I can't keep myself in control? We've left that relationship behind long ago, with cameras, with Capitol, with Prim. Kisses remind her of the games; games remind her of Prim and it makes her old wounds bleeding again. I look at the uneaten foods, and then decided to take a walk to Haymitch's.

Haymitch is in usual state, passed out in a drunken stupor. I arrange the dishes, light the fireplace, discard the empty bottles, and when I'm at the edge of my patience he decides to stir finally.

"Thanks for waking up." I say coldly. "I've begun to think that you're dead."

"Lover boy, patience is a great virtue." He greets me with his usual sarcastic tone, while his eyes rake over me. "You look dreadful. Where is your sweet little girlfriend?"

"In her home. And she isn't my girlfriend." I reply coldly, taking a bite of the stew. It's cold.

"Another kissing matter, I guess?" Haymitch's laughter shakes the table. "You're a disaster boy."

"I know." I feel so ashamed. When on earth I'll learn to check my feelings? "I've hurt her." I say, feeling so guilty and helpless. Haymitch's keen eyes watch me. He's waiting for more. I settle on the floor by the fireplace and think through what I should say. It hurts so much to remember, though. Maybe he's suspecting me that I've tried to strangle her again. "And…" I shake my head aimlessly, "And I feel so bad. I don't know what to do."

He touches my arm; I'm almost surprised at the gentleness of his voice when he speaks. "Peeta, today is Prim's birthday."

I raise my head to look into his eyes. "I saw her crying earlier this morning. She is fighting hard, as she does today." Now that explains her unusual excitement over a simple stew. I remember her face when I was almost kissing her; she was at the verge of tears. I begin to feel angry with me. I've messed her up again. "Haymitch." I push back my chair, standing up, leaving the rest of my meal on the table. "Can you kindly clean that by yourself? I've so many things to do."

Haymitch's eyes gleam with a secret pleasure, if it was other times I'd make him regret for that, but now there isn't much time to waste. "Don't try to kiss her again." I hear him saying before I slam the door on his face.

It is almost dark when I finish frosting the cake. I wrap it carefully; even manage an old candle from the closet. I need to pay for my stupidity, I think as I stop at her door. Greasy Sae gives me a sardonic glare as she opens the door, but I decide to ignore her and head straight to Katniss's room.

"Katniss." I knock the door. But there is no answer, which means she is probably sleeping. "Katniss," I knock again, but to my surprise I find it open. I walk inside, and call her again. It is so dark, the blinds are drawn, and everything in the room is so scattered- pillows are lying on the floor, the mirror is broken. Buttercup hisses when I return the pillows in their places on the bed. She is not here.

"Katniss."

A strange sound, a muffled cry startles me. "Katniss." I follow the direction of the sound, but suddenly it stops. I stop near the closet. The sound was coming from somewhere near it. Her clothes are lying on the floor, and the door of the closet is slightly open. Curiously, I peep inside, only to find a pair of silver eyes glaring at me.

"Katniss." I kneel beside her in the dark, looking at her tear stained face. Cobwebs cover her grey hair, so her face, still she looks so gorgeous. She says nothing when our eyes meet, but continues glaring at me.

"I'm sorry." I whisper. , I don't dare to hold her hand, although my whole being keeps screaming to hug her, kiss her tears away. When I sit beside her in the closet, she doesn't objects. "It's ok." She shifts, increasing the distance between us.

"I'm here to apologize."

"Accepted." Hot tears are rolling down along her cheeks. I've never seen this brave girl crying, and now her tears are breaking my heart.  
"Prim wouldn't like you crying like this on her birthday." I say, without tearing my gaze away from her. "She expects you to celebrate this day, or a cut a cake."

"Cake.." Her head snaps with the last word, her voice is still thick from crying. "Are you sure?"

"Of course." I smile somberly.

"Prim loved cakes." She whispers solemnly. "But I was never able to give her one. She..she…" her voice breaks in the middle, her shoulders begins shaking with the cry. All I want to hug her, soothe her, share her sorrows. But I don't. Instead, I place my hands on her arms, and pull her up forcefully, and begin dragging her to the dining hall. At first she protests, tries to squirm away, but soon she has to surrender to my strength. Yes, I'm stronger than her. When I stop, I find Greasy Sae has already lighted the candles, and has arranged them neatly on the cake.

"You've a cake." Katniss's eyes widens with the surprise, as she gazes at me, then to the cake.

"For Prim." I say with a lopsided smile. "Will she like it?"

"She will." Tears begin streaming down along her face, but she smiles through it. We cut the cake, sing a birthday song for Prim. It is nothing that much, but I can feel Prim is really, really happy now.

After that Katniss moves closer to me, tears are still rolling from her eyes, but she is smiling. "Thank you, Peeta." She whispers, still shaking. I offer my shoulder to her to cry, she accepts it. I wrap my arms around her middle, while her tears soak my shirt. Her touch still sends chills through my body, leaving Goosebumps along the way. She feels that too, I guess, because she stiffens in my arms, but soon she relaxes. I rest my jaw against her hair, while my lips press a gentle kiss on her forehead.

This time she doesn't object.


	8. Reasons

It is getting dark outside. Tired of watching the usual view of the deserted meadow from my window, I move to the couch and turn on the television. After flipping through some boring channels, Plutarch's new singing contest, hourly news on Channel eight, I decide to watch the tapes of our games again. Dr. Aurelius says that it will help to retrieve my memory. As the tape begins rolling, Katniss appears in flicking coal costume, holding my hand, our faces gleam in the dark. She looks confident, brave, and when it shifts to the interview part, I find myself announcing about our baby.

That was a lie, she tells me. But I'm not sure. If everything was lie, then why I feel these strange possessiveness for her? Why do I care about her so much? What was our exact relationship then?

The door behind me clicks open, and a footstep slowly approaches near my couch.

"Oh, the Quarter Quell!" She takes her seat quietly beside my couch, and says, "I really liked my costumes."

"I like mine too." I say quietly, not bothering her with the questions in my mind, as the scene shifts to the interview. We watch Katniss's dress turns into a Mocking jay costume. It is wonderful, as I wonder with pure amazement, my head snaps with a soft gasp beside me. I turn to find Katniss watching the television, wide eyed, blood has drained away from her face. I feel her anguish, as I take her hand, feel her shaking a little. "What happened, Katniss?" I freeze the scene, while I take her hands in mine. I want to hug her right now, but we've promised. I don't want to mess her up again.

"Cinna." She says softly, "The morning of, they froze me in the tube and made me watch while they beat Cinna bloody with spiked gloves."

"Oh, my." I gaze at her sympathetically; holding her hand tightly into mine, continue patting her hand, while she trembles. I can distinctly remember her stylish, Cinna, the brilliant man who made some exquisite dresses for her, including the mockingjay costume. She had a soft spot for him always. "It's ok." I whisper, while she holds on me. "May be we can take a walk." I suggest. She nods, her face is still paper white. I don't like when she is sad, may the fresh air can heal her grieving mind.

So we walk outside, hand in hand. It is already dark, moonlight spills through the dark cloud above us, illuminating the path. The path is green, there is still some traces of the bombing here and there, but still it is turning green. Few other lights flicker though the curtains of the houses at the side of the road. People are coming back, building houses, learning to live. They are healing.

We both walk in silence, holding hands. The wind swirls around us, tossing our hair over our faces. I look at the girl beside me; the wind is playing with the stray hair lying loose on her cheeks, while she is trying hard to keep them under control. But the hair is willing not to listen to her.

"This is hopeless." She says, giving me a troubled look "Look, Peeta. Isn't it…" She can't finish her words because her troubled face already makes me smile. "Why are you smiling?" She sounds offended. I can't take my eyes away from her face glowing in the moonlight, her grey eyes reflect the silvery moon above, and she looks like an angel. An angel with a serious problem.

"Let me help you." I move near her, she gives me a doubtful gaze, but she doesn't object when I tuck her hair behind her ears. "Happy?" I ask. It takes her several moments to answer. "Yes." She says distantly, moving her eyes away from my face.

"Let's sit there." I suggest, turning my eyes toward the meadow. Katniss says nothing but follows me. A month has passed since we returned here. A month, it is really hard to believe. A month- since the war; since Prim's death; my family's death; since our life turned upside down. So many things happened in the short period of time. We're trying to heal the wounds. We learn to keep busy. We talk, we smile, we eat together and we hold hands. Yes, we hold hands. Our relationship has progressed up to holding hands. We don't kiss, we don't hug, and even we don't cross the personal boundaries. Neighbors give us curious looks; ask us about our current relationship, we just smile it away. We're friends, and nothing more. All we did in the past was nothing but some clever act. We're not pretending anymore.

Spring has long been in full bloom. The leaves welcome me back with my favorite color, the trees are flowering and the mockingjays whistle songs as they make their nests. Katniss draws her knees close to her chest and settles her chin on it. I inhale in sheer bliss.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" She breaks the silence.

"Hmm.." I reply, examining a handful of yellow flowers that bloom in the meadow. "And I wonder too."

"What?" She gives me a confused look.

"Many things."

"Like?" she smiles.

I turn my face, and examine the expressions of her face, before I ask my burning question. "What was our exact relationship before the Quarter Quell? Did you love me then?"

Her smile freezes in the middle, and then an agonizing look appears in her face, and then it turns completely blank. "Peeta…" She whispers, her voice is so strained. Her painful expression hurts me, so I take her hand and try to soothe her. "Alright, Katniss." I say softly. "You don't have to answer."

"No." She frees her hand from mine, pain riddles her face, while she speaks, "You should know the truth." She hugs her knees to steady herself. "After the first games, we stopped seeing each other."

"Why?"

"I hurt your feelings. Your love for me was true."

"Didn't you love me then?"

Her face turns blank, before she answers. "No, I didn't. All I did to stay alive." I watch her closely, while she says. Bits and pieces of memories flash across my mind. They are so hazy. I remember a scene from the Quarter quell which I've seen earlier this morning- Katniss hovering over me, crying while Finnick is trying hard to restart my heart. Her concerns for me seemed so genuine. How can it be false? But watching her haggard face, I don't confuse her further with the question.

'And it starts again from the victory tour. I played with your heart." She finishes, looks up, and takes my hand. "I'm so sorry, Peeta. You're so nice with me. But I've always trampled your heart." Slowly I slide my fingers into hers, while she looks disbelievingly at our entwined fingers. "I remember the victory tour." I say softly, moving a piece of stray hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "You'd nightmares."

"Yes." At last she smiles at the thought. Both of us treasure the memories of the trains forever. "And you came to soothe me. Those nights were so wonderful."

"I remember." I smile too. Then we fall silent, gazing at the meadow, bathing in the shimmering moonlight. Our minds begin working on different direction, while I break the silence, "Katniss, do you still have nightmares?"

Her head snaps, she gives me a confusing look, then nods. "Yes."

"Me too." I smile. "We match, again."

Again we fall silent. The moon is playing with the dark cloud, like our hearts playing tricks on us. The meadow is turning green. It's time to heal. After a long pause, I hear Katniss's voice. "Why are you here, Peeta?"

I look into her eyes, studying her expression for a moment. I don't know the real reason. How can I tell when I'm confused too? I blink several times before answering, "Actually I'm too worried about Haymitch."

A small smile laces her lips, "I didn't know Haymitch means so much to you." She sounds a bit disappointed. I look at her hands; I'm longing to hug her again. I miss her touch. She gazes at me. I know she misses too.

"And yes, I like to be with my family." My words sting me back. She looks at my face, sadness covers her face. "But you've no real family here." She draws a ragged breath.

"I can make one." I scoot close to her, gazing longingly into her eyes.

The moon is covered with the cloud again, so that her face. She looks at our entwined hands and sighs. Tears flood her eyes, as she slowly frees her hand from mine, and stand up, looking at the dark sky. "I guess we're getting late for the dinner, Peeta." There is a feigned worry in her voice. "Greasy Sae will be worried sick."

"Hmm.." I pull myself up from the ground, joining her. None of us talk on the way or even during the dinner. I see a pained look in her face when she says me goodnight. "Goodnight, Peeta." She says in a longing voice. She doesn't invite me to soothe her nightmare.

"Sweet dreams." I wave her back, knowing it is a terrible lie. Nightmares will invade her again, so that the flashbacks to me. She knows that. Both of us long to soothe each other like the old times, but it's too hard for both of us.

Tonight sleeping pills don't have effect at all. After tossing and turning for almost two hours when my eyelids begin to droop, a sudden knock at my door, jolts me up on the bed. I sit up on my bed, waiting for the next knock. May be I'm dreaming. Cursing myself for these disturbing dreams, I lay back.

Knock, knock. It isn't a dream. Sleepily, I pull a shirt over my head, and stagger to the door. Knock, knock. This time the knock gets more desperate. Possibly Haymitch, I think. May be he is running out of liquor. Cursing, I open the door, and then a pair of arms wraps around my neck, and a soft body jumps on me, nearly knocking me to the floor. "Peeta, Peeta.." A soft frightened voice whimpers at my chest. It takes me a few seconds to recover from the shock, and when I recover, I find the girl of my dreams, standing before me, with her arms around my body, her body is shaking with a sob; her face is buried in my chest. "Don't die, Peeta." She whimpers again. Tears are rolling from her closed eyes.

Katniss isn't a sleep walker, but bad dreams have driven her to my house in the middle of the night. "Peeta." She is still crying. "Katniss." I cradle her trembling body in my arms, and press a kiss on her forehead. "Katniss, I'm not dead. " I soothe her, cup her face in my palms. She opens her eyes, still shocked from the nightmare. I don't know if she can understand my words, but she gazes into my eyes for a second, then buries her face in my chest again, not losing her hold around me. "It's ok." I whisper in her ears soothingly, "I'm here." Slowly her body relaxes, and she drifts into sleep.

I carry her to my bed, and gently lay her there, pull the covers up to her chin. Then I gather my blankets and move to the rocking chair, after shoving a handful of pills into my mouth. I can't risk having any flashback tonight; I can't forgive myself if I harm her. I don't dare to sleep next to her, so I settle in the chair beside the bed, while she sleeps. Suddenly it begins to rain and the constant lull of rain on the roof makes my eyelids droop.

"No, Peeta, don't die." She trashes again. Not really sure if it's a good idea, I take her hand. She squeezes my hand back, wakes up looks around goes back to sleep clutching my hand so hard I can't move. I spend the rest of the night uncomfortably propped against the chair.

I wake to find Katniss's eyebrows arched in a perplexed look. "Uh, Peeta. Why are you sitting there? What am I doing in your house?"

"Ugh, something about me dying,'" I mumble into the upholstery of the chair.

"Oh," She sighs, and I'm sure I've seen a blush on her cheeks. But I decide to ignore that. "Well," I get up from the chair with my terribly aching back, and begin to head toward the kitchen, "May be we can have some coffee now."

"No." Katniss's voice from behind, stops me at my pace. "You don't need to do that." I see her gathering her clothes, while she gets out of the bed. "And I'm sorry that I disturbed your sleep. It won't happen again." She says without looking in my eyes.

Silently I gaze at the girl in front of me. She isn't healing, like she should. She is keeping her emotions locked, not wanting to trouble anyone with them. But last night her heart became an open book, I'd read many things there- her concern about me, her fear of losing me. The way she held me last night, couldn't be a pretense. I'd seen the truth in her eyes. I can't let her live with her nightmares alone, like this anymore. All she needs a bit of persuasions, and I can pursue very well.

"Katniss." I prop my shoulder against the doorframe, blocking the way, as she heads toward it. "You can't leave."

"What?" She gives me a puzzled look, while she tries to push through me. "Let me go, Peeta."

"No," I grab her shoulders forcefully, making her stop. She isn't looking at me; I tip her chin upward so that I can look into her eyes. "You can't live with your nightmares alone, Katniss. I can't let you live like this."

'Why?" She tries to tear her gaze away from me, but I keep my glare steady. Her eyes are full of tears, when she repeats, "Why?"

"Because I've seen your sufferings last night."

This time tears spill over those grey pools. She begins trembling in my grasp. I loosen my hold around her, as she throws her arms around me, still shaking. "Why Peeta,' her voice is muffled with cry. "Why do you care so much for me, when I'm so cruel with you?"

I slide my arms around her waist, holding her close, "Because you are the reason of my return to twelve."


	9. Angels and demons

Through the windows I see that is pouring rain outside- definitely not a good sign. I stare down at the handful of pills that are meant to help with my flashbacks, but I doubt if they work today. Storms always make these episodes worse, even pills can't control them. I gaze out of the windows again, then to my twitching hands, wondering what Katniss is doing. She will come, soon after the darkness falls, as she does every day. She comes to me to soothe her nightmares, sleeps in my bed while I sleep in a couch beside her; none of us has yet dared to share a bed. Every night I swallow a handful of pills to drive away my inner demons, fortunately they work. She hasn't have to face my nightmares, while I can concentrate on hers. Moreover I don't want to burden her with my sufferings. She is healing; I can't let her relapse again.

Today, I don't want her to come. Because my flashback will take the worst shape, I may hurt her. I can't forgive myself if I do that. With my twitching hands I shove the pills into my mouth, swallow them, and rest my head against the headboard. But it doesn't work, as I can feel my both arms twitching, my head is feeling like a piece of lead. I open my eyes, everything is blurred around me, it nearly saps my strength to do that. Time to time the cream walls around me is turning into the white walls of the Capitol labs, makes my head spin. I shut my eyes close again, praying silently for Katniss not to come. I sit in my bed silently, while my whole body begins to twitch, trying hard to control myself.

I'm back again into the Capitol labs, where doctors in sterile coats threats me with syringes until I surrender to their will. "She is a mutt." They say. "No.." I half scream, half whisper, "She isn't." Their faces are distorting while they push more venom inside my veins. My whole body is on fire. "No.." I scream, the pain in my head is too much to bear. I try to run away, grab at the mirror, and it breaks into pieces, the sharp edges cut through my skin, leaving a trail of blood along the way. I don't stop running until I reach the door and crush into an elderly figure.

"Peeta." Through all the haze, I recognize Haymitch's voice. I force my eyes open, my vision is so blurry. That's it. It has started. There is no turning away from it now. "What happened?" The old man catches my trembling body, and gasps at my bleeding hand. "How?" The concern in his voice distracts me. I look at his concerned eyes. Even among those hazes I realize that he isn't drunk today. May be his liquors are running out.

"Don't come near me." I hiss, trying to warn him. But the old man is stronger than me. He grabs me by arms and drags me to the chair, makes me to seat, and pushes a handful of pills into my mouth from the medicine box lying open on the table. "How did it happen?" He asks, concerned. The gentleness in his voice startles me. Now he looks like a concerned father, rather than a sarcastic mentor. "How, Peeta?"

I try to steady myself, as the pills begin to work. But I know they won't work for long. I try to concentrate on his words, and manage some words, "Storms make it worse."

"Does Katniss know?"

"No." another thunderclap shakes the room; my vision is cloudy again. The headache returns as the lightning flashes across the room. Pills have no effect at all. "Please stop her from coming here." I grab his hands with rest of my sanity. "It will get worse."

Haymitch's brows furrows in concern as he watches the flashing thunder bolts. Then he shakes his head. "Ok." He rises to leave, as I begin trembling once more. He knows it's wise to stay away from me now. "Close the door, Peeta." He says before leaving.

I don't know what that old man has in his mind; I've not much in my reserve to think. As soon as he leaves, I collapse on the floor. Capitol returns, with more venom, while I continue struggling against the violent scenes, folding my hands in my lap, pretending as if they are caged in a handcuff.

"Peeta." A few moments later, a familiar voice rings in my ears. Through all the hazes, I recognize the voice- Katniss. Another thunderclap, another wave of pain washes over me; I let out a cry of anguish. "She is a mutt." The demon says.

"Peeta." I see her moving closer, while leaving a trail of water and mud behind her. "What happened?" her voice is so concerned. Pain grips my whole being, consumes me like fire, as I try to fight through it. I crawl away from her, like a frightened animal. My hands are itching to wrap my fingers around her delicate neck. To control myself I slam my fists on the floor, only to hear her cry.

"What are you doing, Peeta? Please calm down." She sounds panicked. Her eyes are wide, when I force myself to look into her eyes; I guess, I see a drop of tear shining in there.

"Don't come close to me, Katniss." My words are icy, hissed through clenched teeth, and they twist my insides, when I see her face turning dark. I've never been so cold with her since my return to twelve. "I'm not in control." I try to cling to the rest of my sanity. "I can't help myself from hurting you."

Another thunderclap shakes the room, and the pain in my head increases, I let out a cry. The world around me turns so hazy, even I can't stand still. My whole body is shaking. "Katniss, go away." Visions of Capitol take over me; I lean against the wall beside me. It's too hard to breathe.

"Peeta, let me help you." I see her licking her lips, while she walks close to me. Her chest is rising and falling so heavily, I guess it takes much of her efforts to do this.

"Go away." I say, still shaking, the world around me is shaking too.

Her silvery eyes have turned into two fathomless pools, when she looks at me. She takes another step closer, while I try to keep myself steady against the wall. Her warm breath brushes my skin, and she stands an inch away from me.

"I'm not going." She says firmly, holding my hand.

"Don't touch me." I finch, her touch sends unwanted tingle through me. "I'm not in control." I pant.

"You will be." She steadies her glare, and looks again into my eyes; it is too much to bear. Then she hugs me, runs her fingers down along my arms, whispering some soothing words in my ears as I use to do when she has nightmares. But it doesn't work. Another wave of pain breaks over me, and I try to run away from her.

"No." She clings to me. This time I try to push her away, utter some filthy dirty words to her, and she looks at me with shock. She can't even imagine that I know them.

"Peeta, don't do this." She is at the verge of crying, now. "Listen to me." She reaches for me, grabs my arms, I try to squirm away, but she keeps holding me, I didn't know that she possesses so much strength. "Listen." She hugs me tighter, her arms imprison me like iron bands. "You are not in Capitol, Peeta."

"You're mutt." I struggle in her embrace, my hands move up to her throat, wrapping my fingers around her neck. "You mutt." I hiss, tightening my grip around her neck. Her face turns red, she struggles to breathe, but she doesn't lose her hold around me.

"I'm not mutt." She chocks. Her eyes are full of tears, even a few drops are threatened to fall, while she tightens her grip around my shoulder. "Listen, I'm not mutt. You're not in Capitol." Her voice is so firm, that makes me to look at her face. Automatically my hands slides away from her neck, she collapses against the wall, coughing, gasping for air. I move near her again, shaking, my hands reach for her throat. But this time she doesn't run away. Instead, she crushes her mouth against mine.

I shudder. My convulsion stops as she pulls away, and I look at her.

She is soaked, her whole body is soaked, water is dipping from her braid, and even a few drops are shining over her forehead like pearls. Hot tears spill from her eyes, and are rolling down along her cheeks. She is so..so…beautiful. I wait for a moment to see if her face distorts in something horrible. But no, she remains as beautiful as before. While watching her, a new cloud covers my brain. I don't feel hatred for her.

Instead I feel lust.

I move beside her, hold her shoulders in my tight grasp, making her to stand. Katniss is surprised with my new behavior, I guess, because she gazes into my eyes. Her skin is feeling cold against mine.

"Peeta…" She rests her hand on my chest, guessing the new intensity in my eyes. But I don't care. I need her as the demon says. Before she can say another word, I crush my mouth against her. She is shocked at my violence, I guess, because her lips turn stone against mine, I coax her to part them, but she doesn't. Anger consumes me once again. The demons keeps driving me mad, whispering the words to add fire to my anger. I kiss her forcefully; my teeth cut her lips until they are bleeding. I taste blood in my mouth. "Peeta," She let out a soft gasp of pain, "What are you doing?" But her whisper makes the cloud thicker. I press her forcefully against the wall, my eyes travel down to her soaked white shirt, and then stops at the gentle swellings of her breasts. The white shirt clings to her body, igniting the fire inside me.

"Don't." She smells danger, and tries to grab my wrist, but I brush her hands away from mine.

"I said, I'm not in control." I whisper, cracking like a whip. Her breath is hot on my temple and we're both trembling. I loom over her and she shudders in fear of the next step. I slide my hand into her jacket and force it off her shoulders. It sticks on her hands, binding her. Then my gaze moves to the buttons of her shirt.

"Go ahead." The demon whispers in my head. I've became slave of my own demon. I can help myself anymore. I grab the edges of her shirt and tear it apart. The buttons rolls on the floor, her shirt snaps open, exposing her perfect breasts. Her eyes are closed; she is shaking.

"Take her." The demon says. Right then, something catches my eyes. A scar, just below her collarbone, my eyes move to the bruise around her neck, then to her bleeding lips , her paper white face, her pained eyes. Guilt takes over me, as the cloud clears off my head. What I've done?

"No." I let out a soft gasp. "No." I lose my hold around her, collapse onto the floor. It's me who treats her like an animal when she tried to help me.

"I hurt you." I can only give a half grunt, half moan. I'm curled around my knees now, pulling at my hair until it looks ready to come out in great chunks. I can't even look at her, can't tell her to stay. I hug my knees tightly, and continue pulling at my hair, until I feel her hands touching my arms gently.

"Oh, my." This time I burst into tears. "Katniss, I was going to rape you."

She scoots close to me, I try to crawl away but her hands firmly grab my shoulders. She sits beside me, cups my chin and forces me to look at her. The sight of her bleeding lips and naked breasts fills my heart with guilt.

"It wasn't you, Peeta." She whispers. Now she is close, so close, that I can even see the pulse in her neck. Her lips are still bleeding, her dress is torn. Her breath is hot against my temple, we are both trembling.

"You better stay away from me." I say tears of guilt rolls down from my eyes. "I'm a mutt."

"You aren't." Her words make me to open my eyes. She leans against me, running her hands down along my arms, "You're wonderful. You take care of me when I'm so cruel with you." She takes my twitching hand, slides her fingers into mine. I look disbelievingly at our entwined fingers while she speaks, "That's real you, Peeta. You're my friend."

"You didn't mind?" I ask her, almost crying "I hurt you. You say you trust me."

"Because you make me." She smiles, drawing circles on my open palm, sending unwanted tingles along the way. Slowly I feel my muscles stop jerking, my vision is becoming clearer, while the pains drains away from my body.

"Tonight, I'll stay with you." She says at last. "No." I nod disapprovingly. "The storm isn't over yet. I may have another episode. Something bad may happen."

"Don't worry about it," She says, preempting my argument. "You didn't hurt me much."

'We are lucky." I say disgustedly, not looking at her. Her busied lips and torn shirt are too much to bear. But she gently smooths my wrinkles with her soft fingers.

"You were more in control than you realized," She insists. "And everything is about taking it one day at a time, anyway. You  _may_  lose control.  _I_  may fall apart and forget to eat, or breathe again." I open my eyes and gaze at her stubborn face. She is more stubborn than me. I guess, it's Haymitch who sends her here. It's useless to fight with her.

"Well," I shake my head. "But in separate rooms."

It isn't of much use. Later that night, when the storm turns violent, I wake up shaking in my bed. When my body is trembling with the waves of pain, I find Katniss scooting close to me, holding my head in her shoulder, whispering soothing words in my ears. I insist her to go back but she stays. I hold her, squeeze her while she stays perfectly still, holding my hand, hoping to lend some of her strength to me to go through this. I bury my head in her shoulder; she cradles my head in her arms, the places gentle kisses on my temple.

We stay like that through the night, with my head cushioned on her breasts, and my arms around her waist. Her fingers are in my hair, while she sleeps uncomfortably leaning against the wall.

This time I don't feel lust or hatred. Instead I feel safe and sound.


	10. Defined

Spring has long been in full bloom. The setting sun paints the sky with my favorite color, the trees are flowering and the mockingjays whistle songs as they return home. We walk are together, through the woods, our hands are entwined. Now-a-days it happens so often. Sometimes it is me who find her hiding behind the rows of pants in the closet. Sometimes it is her who holds me during the flashbacks. Or sometimes it's just nothing; we like to take a walk together in the woods. It is one of those times. We hold hands so often, we hug so often. At first we did it in our worst times, but now we just do it out of habits, even in the public. It gives me a feeling of safety, when I look at Katniss, I know, she feels the same.

It's been two months since our return to twelve, and the district is returning to its old self. People are still returning, houses are being built. The wind swirls around us, and it makes Katniss to move a bit closer. She leans onto me, as we continue walking.

"I like it." I grin as we continue walking together. "It feels so familiar."

"Which one?" Katniss raises her head from my shoulder, smiling back. "Me or the mutt version of your flashback?"

The lightness of her voice makes me to stop at my pace, and I look into her eyes. For the first time in two months I see her face light up with a genuine smile. The ray of the dying sun has created a strange pattern on her face, and she looks so mysterious. And her smile, that outshines the stars above. Suddenly I realize she is so beautiful, more beautiful than I've ever imagined. My breath catches at my throat.

It happens to me so often recently, especially since my last flashback two weeks ago. She holds me through the episode. I feel so safe and sound in her arms. Which one is true? That Katniss or the mutt Katniss? I don't know. And as much as I try to convince myself that being just friends is the best thing for both of us, I can't deny that I'm drawn to her. What is this feelings called? Love? We stop pretending long ago, and after everything it isn't the rational feeling for any of us. Still, some things simply make no sense, and then other moments leap out at me and I can't believe I ever thought her as a mutt.

"This Katniss." I take her hand and slip my fingers into hers "The Katniss is walking right beside me."

She stares at me for a while as if trying to find out I'm lying or not.

"Thank you." She nags me with her thin shoulder

"You are welcome." I stop at my pace, then look into her eyes. Suddenly my hands move up to her shoulder, I grip them tightly and make her to face me. Katniss has probably read the intensity in my eyes, because she turns perfectly still. Her eyes are wide, and I feel her hands warm against my skin. I draw her closer; I guess she feels that too, because her breath turns hot against mine. Since the flashback episode this situations happens so often…

My eyes catch the cut on her bottom lip, the memories of my last flashback invades my mind, my behaviors with her, my roughness… and I shudder.

"No."

"Peeta," Katniss is instantly by my side, her arms are around me. "Peeta, "She whispers in my ear "It's alright."

I'm still shaking, what am I going to do? I'm supposed not to do this anymore. Possibly I'm having another flashback episode.

"Katniss, I'm sorry.. for that day." I try to apologize, but I'm still shaking too hard. Katniss holds me, while she moves a piece of stray hair from my forehead, and whispers, "It's alright."

The softness of her voice startles me, and I look into her eyes. She is Katniss, just Katniss- the brave girl.

Perhaps I'm really in…

Suddenly someone clears his throat loudly behind us, both us spun around to find a familiar figure staggering behind us. Even in the faint light of the dusk, both of us recognize the man, Haymitch.

"Hello, sweetheart." He greets Katniss with his usual sugar-coated sarcastic tone, "So it is true. Two of you are running around, holding hands, and smooching."

Katniss looks like she is going to faint, and I really feel irritated. "That's not I remember." I huff.

"Oh, really?" He raises one eyebrow, "So what are you two today? Star crossed lovers? Enemies? Just two kids from twelve?"

"Haymich!' Katniss glares. "Why are you not drunk today?"

"Do you like me drunk always kid?" He grins from ear to ear. "So you two can run around, and entertain people?"

Katniss sniffs loudly, and glares at Haymitch again. I quickly moves my eyes from Katniss to Haymitch. Before anything bad can happen, I decide to step between them. 'Well, Haymitch, how are your geese?"

"Fine." Haymitch just doesn't stop grinning, and Katniss doesn't stop glaring. "Just I can't find one of them."

I quickly take Katniss' hand and whirl around, taking the path leading to Victor's village. "Then go and find that."

"You better find yourselves before you are lost." He grins widely, and staggers down to the path leading to the forest.

Katniss remains strangely silent through the way. I don't know what she is thinking inside her head, but I just can't shake Haymitch's words out of mine. He is right. What are we exactly? I eye the girl beside me. Many and many words flood my head…:  _Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancée. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally._

_What defines our relationship exactly?_

As we stroll down to the familiar path leading to the victors' village, suddenly I feel her grip tightening around my wrist. "Wait…" a soft gasp comes from the girl beside me. Surprised and a bit puzzled I turn to face the Katniss, as she stops at her pace.

"What's wrong? Katniss?" I try to ask. But her face is so pale, she tries to tell something, her lips trembles a bit, but nothing comes out, and I'm tired of standing still. In one fluid motion I slip down and out of her grasp. "Well, Katniss, are you coming?" I say her teasingly, "Well, if you want to go back to woods and hunt extra squirrels, I'm not coming with you."

Without words, Katniss follows me around, and slips her hand into mine. Her eyes are still following the fence that marks the boundary of the district and the forest. She is still a bit pale.

"Katniss, it's dark." I nudge her with my shoulder, "Squirrels are probably gone to sleep."

But she doesn't answers, only her eyes gazes at something near the fence, and this time I follow her gaze too only to find the ruin of a tiny house near the fence. "That's my old house." Katniss speaks after a long time, I feel her hands trembling in mine. "Prim and I grew up there…" Her voice is thick. Tears flood her eyes; I know how she feels now. Because I know this feelings too.

"It's alright, Katniss." I wrap my arms around her shoulders. She melts in my arms, still shaking. It feels so perfect, so safe. I look down at her. All I want to press a kiss on her lips again. I shake my head several times. No, it is impossible. But I can't shake that thought as she continues, "We are sisters."

"I know." I say softly.

"My mother and father lived here too." she whispers. "They were husband and wife."

"Right."

"No." Suddenly she raises her face from my chest, and shakes her head violently. "No, Peeta. Something isn't right. Everyone has a well-defined relationship. Haymitch is right."

Her words puzzle me. I look deep into her eyes, searching for truth. Is she suggesting defining ours? Suddenly I feel an urge to kiss her again. Why does it happen so often? Am I really falling in love with her again?

"We are friends." I say flatly. To my words, the corners of her lips turn up slightly, as she shakes her head, "No, Peeta. Friends don't feel urge to kiss each other."

Does she read my mind? If is other times, I'd look at my feet. But no, I'm changed. I'm not that timid, shy boy anymore. I look into her eyes boldly and ask, "So you feel like kissing me too?"

"Sometimes." She sighs, then gazes into my eyes, " I think it's just an old habit, not a true feeling. But Peeta, how can I know it's not just an old habit than a true feeling?"

I take her hands and pat them gently, "How do I differentiate false memories from true ones?'"

"You try." Her eyes light up.

"Then we can try this too." I smile in the dark.

It takes us sevearl attempts to do that. It's not easy for any of us to resume our left out relationship. Sometimes she turns her head away from me, her eyes are wet, as she begs me not to make her to pretend anymore. Sometimes it's me who steps back, shaking violently as my demons try to invade my sanity. Sometimes it's both of us who give up.

At last, after a long moment, our trembling lips actually touch each other. Her heat consumes me, drawing me into the fire that she thinks has gone out. It hasn't. I can still feel it, still see it in her eyes at times. I want to show her, to prove to her that she may be broken, but she's not beaten. Everything that they did to her—to all of us—didn't ruin us forever.

The kiss goes on and on. Our breaths mingle together, her hand is hot against my skin, mine is cold on her, as she cling to me, and I hold her close to me.

We've defined our relationship. Now we know who we are.


	11. Rain

My courtship with Katniss…well…a bit strange. We begin from holding hands, hugging, and a few days ago, we decided to take it a little further. We kissed. Well, still it is strange. Haymitch often says it something else, and sometimes we doubt ourselves as well.

Some days we are lovers, some days we are just mixed up. The messy shiny memories threaten me again, and sometimes Katniss is overwhelmed by the sorrows and depression.

I find her sitting near the lake again, holding Prim's red ribbon; her eyes are red, her cheeks are wet. Around her, there are Prim's clothes, her hairbrush, her lost ribbons…her everything. She sees me, but says nothing, except sitting in the place where she is.

"Hey, it's ok." I sit beside her; she scoots closer to me and, rests her head on my shoulder. Her whole body is trembling so violently. I run my fingers down along her messy hair, and whisper in her ears, "It's ok. I'm here. I'm here."

My arms automatically encircle her waist, while her tears are soaking my shirt. I don't say anything; even don't try to console her, we just sit together, like Dr. A advises. After a long moment of silence, I gently rest my hand on her cheeks, and then tilt her face, so that her grey eyes are looking right at me. I pull her closer, and then plant a small kiss on her lips. The kiss tastes so salty. I hold her close to me and whisper, "What will make you to feel better?"

She takes a deep breath, as if there is not much air around her. "I don't know."

So again I hold her tighter, let her sob in my shoulder. She leans onto me as we sit together, our hands are entwined. The cold air soothes our bodies, so that our tortured mind. Dark clouds are gathering at the horizon, the air feels cold. I wonder if it will rain tonight.

"Peeta," I turn my thoughts away from the horizon, to find her watching me closely. She does it many times recently, when I'm busy. She thinks that I've never noticed, but I always do. I wonder if she does from out of habit or just…

"Why are you choosing me?" Katniss sighs and looks at me. The expression on her face is familiar—one of curiosity and expectation, but not forceful at all. She's been wearing it a lot lately.

The question startles me and for a moment I honestly have no idea what she means.

"Or are you here because you have no choice?"

"I have choices," I answer back curtly, thinking of Delly Cartwright and any host of other girls out there in Panem. The idea makes me sick, but it's still the truth. "I could go anywhere." Katniss's face scrunches the tiniest bit and she nods once. "Even after me being so rude with you time to time?"

"I'm here because this is where I want to be," I tell her firmly. I'm sure my answer entails more than the meaning the words actually have, but I can't be the one to say what I'm feeling. Not this time. "And I think we match."

A sigh escapes from her lips, when I take her hand and pat it gently. She nods at out entwined hand, and say disapprovingly, "But you're a good guy, Peeta. You need someone who is a little less broken."

Looking at her face, I guess it is Haymitch's idea. The old man is pinning this poor girl a lot recently. So I hold her face in my hands, and then touch her lips, she doesn't move away, our lips fit like puzzles. I find her trembling against me, and the kiss go on and on. Her hands find my waist, my hands are searching for her skin, her collarbone, inside her jacket, where her shirt and pant meet. Cold raindrops touch our skins as we both pull away for air. I need her, I know, but I just can't speak that out. Our relationship is so complicated. We still can't get rid of the pasts. Instead I wipe away the single raindrop shining on her cheek, "I think we better go home now."

Katniss looks at the sky, still trembling, "But I…"

"No.." my fingers on her lips silences her again, then I take her hand, "Let's go home."

We can't escape the rain. Both of us are almost dripping wet when we take the path leading to the Victor's village. We realize that we can never reach home before the storm. So two of us take shelter under a nearby tree. The wind gets colder, and Katniss moves closer to me. She is shaking a little.

"Come closer." I open my arms and Katniss moves to my chest, melting in my arms. It feels so natural. Together we watch the pouring rain around us, water dripping from the leaves. "See those three stars," I say pointing upward. "That's Orion's belt. He was a hunter." The lore came from long before the Dark Days. My father told me about him when I was young. I point out the different stars that make up the constellation and she cranes her neck.

"And that's Cassiopeia." She exclaims a brightly. Her dark mood lightens a little, and she smiles at last. She rests her head on my lap and smiles like a child, "And that's the great bear."

"You do know stars well." I rest my hand on her leg, she shivers. "I remember some nights with you." I say softly, my mood is reflective. She watches me curiously, "In the trains."

"You do?" She is a bit surprised.  
"Yes, a bit." I nod, "No clearly but I guess you've nightmares."

"Yes,: She nods "They stared after the Hunger Games. I used to scream and thrush and you came to check me in." I watch her closely while she speaks "You used to hold me."

"I remember." I wrap my arms around her shoulder as the thunderbolts lighten up the sky, "And I still have them." Then I look at her face, "And I know you've them too. and we slept better. Katniss, we always match." I grab her shoulders, "I can't deserve anyone better than you."

She says nothing but smiles. She is convinced. It is true that we are so dependent on each other, I just can't think anyone in her place. I'm wondering if she thinks about our nights in the couch. I lean forward, and move a stray hair from her face, "Do you think we can…" She watches me expectantly. But before I can finish my words a thunderclap shakes the earth. That's it. It is coming. I shut my eyes tightly, waiting for the pain going away. No, I can't get sick here, not now, not when we are almost building our relationship again.

She has probably read the lines of pain riddling my face, because when I open my eyes I find her grey eyes watching me closely, "Are you alright, Peeta?"

She looks so broken today. I can't burden her with my pain today. I try to swallow the rising pain in my head, and try to nod, "Yes." I search my pocket for pills, but no. I've left them home today.

Another bolt of lightning, another thunderclap. And the pain in my head returns again with all the shiny memories. My whole body shudders as another wave of pain washes over me.

"Peeta, hold on." I hear Katniss's voice from the haziness. 'Hold my hand." She offers me her hand to hold.

"Katniss." I open my eyes to find her holding my hands, her eyes are so desperate. Buckets of water pouring from the sky, is bathing both of us. Her clothes cling to her body, and she is shivering too. 'Don't come closer. I can hurt you." I try to warn her. Memories of last flashback are still vivid in my mind, and I try to swallow the pain. But she doesn't give up.

"Try to focus on me." she says, now hugging me tightly close to her body. I try, but another wave of pain washes over me, as the visions of Capitol takes over me. I tell her to go away, but she holds me, kisses me, standing in the rain together. I hold on her, try to focus on her, while my body shudders with Capitol's curse.

"Fight, Peeta." She whispers, kissing me. I fight, I hold her until the flashback is over.

It is midnight when I come back to the real world. I find myself propped up against a tree, and my legs feel so heavy. When I look down I find Katniss sleeping peacefully beside me, her head is on my lap. Both of us are so wet. I shake my head, trying to take my surroundings. We are in the meadow; hazily I can remember that Katniss has walked me down here. Her hands are wrapped around my waist, and her fingers are clutching a handful of my shirt. Under her closed lids, her eyes are moving so fast. Possibly she is having nightmares.

Another thunderclap shakes the earth and the shiny memories threaten to return. I lean forward and wrap my arms around Katniss's shoulder. Touching her dulls the pain a bit.

It is still raining. I wrap my arms around Katniss, and lean against the tree again. The sound of the rain lulls me back to sleep. Even nightmares can't wake me up.


	12. Longing

I do remember the station. I do remember the train.

But I don't remember what happened here.

I look at the sketchpad on my lap, and the few lines I've drawn on it. Those are faces, or the shapes of some faces, like a foggy distant memory. But I don't remember the details at all.

It happens to me often now-a-days. I wake up from my sleep in a pool of sweat. Some unknown faces haunt me down in my dreams; I curl up in a ball at the corner of my bed, wrapped in bed sheets, trying to remember the faces I knew once, but know I can't.

I gaze at the horizon, still dark, the pencil is still in my hand. I see nothing. I remember nothing.

"Peeta." I jerk back to the reality by a soft touch on my shoulder. I turn my head to find Katniss standing beside me. Her hair is messy, her eyes are a bit swollen from the afternoon nap, but her gaze is concerned as she looks at me.

"What are you doing here?" She asks softly, moving closer, and I can smell her fragrance. She smells like sleep, something so warm, so soothing. I just want to hold her right now…

"What are you doing here?" at last she drops on the bench beside me. Now her warmth is ravishing my skin. The air is so hot, still her warmth makes me to feel cozy. I blink, not much aware of what is happening. It still feels like a dream.

"Peeta.."

"Yes." I take my eyes away from her, and let a sigh to escape.

"Oh, welcome back." She smiles at last. "I was so worried." Her eyes are shining with the mock concern. "I was almost standing here for an hour."

I urge to laugh, "Oh, then you need some rest, I guess."

She smiles and walks over me. "How can I do when you are taking the entire bench?"

Laughing, I lift my head a little, so that she can sit. "Thank you." She takes my head on her lap "Now you've a nice pillow."

"Mmm.." My head sinks into the softness of her thighs; closing my eyes I inhale in sheer bliss.

"How did you find me?"

"I knocked your door, but I found it open. She said softly. Her fingers are running into my hair, smoothing my curls. "I guess you're at the station."

"You didn't sleep? I look up at her, "Doesn't the pill work?"

She nods. I guess Dr. A will be disappointed again. Then her words surprise me. "I just want a moment away from the past." She whispers, not looking into my eyes, "For a moment. I want to stay with you." Past is haunting her too, but in a different way. We both long for company, so badly. So I take her hand, and place them gently over my heart. "Then stay."

"Alright." Before long I have Katniss smiling. We're laughing together by the time the very last train of the day speeds through the station. I let the gust of wind flow over me and listen as the train rumbles towards District 13 on the newly connected track.

The tracks are silent and I listen to the hum of the distant cicadas. The vivid dreams of the night are fading away. Her presence makes me to feel a lot better. I don't know why, maybe it's just her company, or just I long for someone so much. From the last week, It stops raining, the sky becomes clear, and the warm summer air coming from the east is turning the weather bit hotter than usual. There is not a single living person out here in this late hour of night, except us; all the houses are dark, the curtains are drawn, everybody is sleeping. It's almost 3:30 in morning. But we're enjoying the night and Katniss shows no motion to leave.

"What are you drawing?" it's Katniss who breaks the silence first; her eyes are gazing at the unfinished sketch in my hand.

"Nothing." I look at the unfinished drawing, and sigh. "Just trying to remember some old memories."

"Do you remember them?" she caresses my cheeks, her voice is soft and her mood is reflective.

"I just remember the outlines, not the details." I nod at the drawing pad, and throw it on the ground. "It's just..." I take a deep breath "So…hopeless."

She is still gazing at the sketchpad in my hand, her eyes are distant. Memories of seventeen years- of course she remembers.

"I remember the details." She says quietly, as if she is taking to herself. "Your father, my father… Prim…Rue…"

I prop myself up, and her eyes are gazing into mine.

"Do you want to remember them, Peeta?"

"Can you tell me?"

"Which one?"

"When did we first meet?"

Slowly a smile spread across her face, her eyes shines in the moonlight. "At the school.' At last she leans forward and whispers in my ears.

My heart trembles as her breath brushes my skin. I slip my hand behind her neck, and pull her closer, "How old were we?"

"Five."

"That must be a sweet one." I mutter. But she nods disapprovingly. "No sir, it's just a one sided love." The soft contour of her small breasts is pressing against my arms. "But now it becomes both sided." I tease. She smiles. The night air is playing with her hair, and she looks so gorgeous.

"Can you tell me more?" I ask again.

"About what?  
"The trains?"

"Hmm…" She sighs, still staring at the dark horizon. "Nightmares," She begins. "I know you have nightmares every night."

There are flashes of memories in my mind, but everything is so twisted, that I can exactly trust my own memory. I need to hear from her too. I give her a questioning look, she nods again. Our nights together started on the trains of the victory tour. The stress of the president's threat made the nightmares worse. I'd wake screaming every night. "You spent sleepless nights roaming the halls. You would knock on my door to check on me. You'd come in and stay with me until I fell asleep. Then you'd just stay the whole night."

"That sounds so wonderful." I muse "How could they make me to forget them?"

"It's alright, Peeta." Looking at my disappointed eyes, she kisses me gently. It isn't that breathtaking, earthshaking kisses we shared in front of cameras; her fingers slide behind my neck, into my shirt, drawing possessive caresses on my bare chest; the heat and the fire, I can feel the longing in her lips too. When we pull away, I can see that in her eyes too. I wish I could ask her to stay with me, but it isn't so easy for us, after what we've gone through. So after an eternity, Katniss frees her fingers from our entwined hands, "It's getting late."

I don't want her to leave my side. People may think that we're lovers, we try to be so, but always we find how hard to take it further. I know she will struggle with nightmares tonight, she also knows that I may succumb to the flashbacks anytime, but still it is so hard to speak the truth. So I look into her eyes, and gaze into the longing look in her eyes, "Did it help?"

Her head jerked with my words, "What?"

"Nightmares? Me staying with you?"

She blinks several times, as if she hasn't expected me to ask her to stay with me. She leans closer to my chest, and buries her face in my chest. "But Peeta…" Her voice is still full of hesitation, "I…"

I hold her shoulder firmly, cup her chin, and make her to look at me. "I want to remember, Katniss." I tell her firmly, "I want to remember every wonderful moment I had with you. I want to soothe you like I did. Before. Katniss, I want to be the Peeta who fell in love with you when he was only five. Will you help me?"

Her eyes flutter a little to my words. Hot tears begin to roll down from her grey eyes. And I feel the salty taste against my lips when she kisses me, and whispers, "Of course, Peeta. I will."


	13. Real

So after many lost days we are coming back to life. When I look at the woman beside me, I can see it too. I can see it when the setting sun reflects on her grey iris; I can feel it when she wraps her arms around me. It feels so good to have her fingers entwined in mine again. Not for show, but in actual friendship. The meadow is turning green, new crop fields are being planted, and the sounds of machines of the new medicine factory are bringing the district back to life. As we pass, many and many people wave at us, we wave back too. My memory is coming back, so the flashbacks are going away. Sometimes I feel like a new man all over again. I look at the girl beside me again, she smiles when our eyes meet, and she knows that too.

And now I'm returning home from my newly built bakery, and she is from hunting. We meet in the meadow, and then we walk home together. It became our usual routine to walk home together from the work, then take rest and spend rest of our night wrapped in each other's arms. It becomes a habit now a days, it feels so natural, for the last three months. We have never complained about it.

Today we have spent most of our day in finishing the memory book. Katniss got that idea from her family plant book. And it begins with a person's picture or photo if we can find it, or my sketch or painting of that person. We have included Prim, Rue, Katniss's father, and today I've included my family. Everyone…my father with a cookie, my brother cracking jokes…..It is so much…and it is so painful to remember. My finger unconsciously grips Katniss; she can feel it because she holds it tight. We can both understand each other too well.

We reach at the bottom of the staircase of Haymitch's house. The memories are still hung in my mind.

"You have every right to be upset," It is Katniss who holds my hand first, sounding a bit too much like Dr. Aurelius'. "I were upset when I've to include Prim."

There is nothing to take the pain away. There is nothing to make up our losses. I look at her, nodding slightly "I'm not upset."

She takes my hand and pats it softly. I can see the sympathy shining in her eyes. I know I can do nothing to bring my family back but there is one thing I can do for sure. My hand goes up to her collarbone, tracing the lines of her jaw. I tip her chin with my finger, so that I can look at her eyes.

Then I pull her closer….

A shuffling noise on the stairs lets me know our time is up. I try to straighten her disheveled hair before the door opens. She seems to be relishing every touch, unaware of our impending visitor. My hand is in her hair when a beam of light swings towards my eyes, spotlighting our proximity in this otherwise dark space. We're caught.

"You two," Haymitch harrumphs. "Always causing me problems."

"We were just…" and I'm apparently tongue-tied. Exhaustion is my theory.

"I know, I know," Haymitch sighs. "Practicing without an audience. Must be awful."

Katniss starts to protest then just stares the older man down.

"Well come on then." Haymitch motions for us to leave. "It's you two who decided to visit me tonight. I'm not climbing in there with you."

So we've to join him in the dinner. He has finally agreed to contribute all the tributes he was forced to mentor in last twenty four years. The memories are too painful; it is more painful when you have to recreate them on papers. My hand never stop trembling while sketching the dead tributes, I guess the flashback is back. Just then I feel Katniss right beside me, with her arms around my shoulder, soothing and caring….

Even Haymitch's eyes don't miss our proximity.

"You girl.." because he gloats a bile scented kiss at Katniss before both of start to leave, "Don't wash the poor boy's brain again."

Katniss remains unusually silent through the walk to our house. She looks so upset. When we reach at the bottom the staircase, she stops.

"Katniss.." I'm a bit surprised with her weird behavior, but I understand the reason of her uneasiness. So I take her hand and rub it gently, "Don't worry about Haymitch. He is.."

"No," Katniss frees her hand from mine, not looking at me, "Peeta, he is right. I'm washing your brain."

The sudden change of mood really makes me to feel troubled. But she continues without looking at me, "Peeta, I'm not the one you should live with. You know I can never have the life, you want. I'm so broken…and …confused…."

Her voice is thick, and her body is trembling slightly. Mentally I really want to yell at Haymitch for this. But no, I don't. Hours ago it is her who soothes me when I was so upset, now it is my turn.

"Katniss.." I take her hand, and rub it gently. To my words, she tilts her head, and opens her eyes. A drop of tear is shining at the corner of her grey eyes.

"I never wanted anything except you." I wipe away the tear. "And I don't care what you are.."

She shivers at my touch. She leans closer to me.

And then she kisses me.

Against the cold gritty floor beneath me, her kiss is startlingly warm. Her lips pull at mine like they've been away years not hours. I'm too surprised to do anything but accept it. It jars me out of the anger and sorrows—if only for a few moments.

"Mmmp," is all I can think to respond. Everything else can wait. My hand grasps at the back of her head to deepen the kiss. I wish we can stay forever like this.

Her hand is warm against mine and mine is cold against her. our lips move together with the perfect rhythm while my hands finds the places where she isn't covered with her father's hunting jacket…her face, the length of her neck, inside the jacket where her shirts and pants meet.

Her fingers are on my shirt button, I don't stop her when she unbuttons them. Our caged emotions are free at last. I slide off her shirt from her shoulders, and inhale the root of her neck. She smells like forest, sweat, freedom…and…and.. love.

I've found my love.

I lead her to the bedroom, and lay her on the blue bedcover. She doesn't protests when I slide off the last fabric from her body.

"Stay." I whisper.

"Always." She whispers the promise again. And that makes my heart twist with the overwhelming emotions.

Her lips ghosts mine when she starts kissing me- on lips, on cheeks, on some places where none of us have imagined before.

"How are you feeling?" I ask her.

"Hunger…" She can barely speak. For the last three months while we've shared a bed, the moments here have been mostly innocent. We kiss, we touch, but we've not been ready for more yet. Every time we begin down that path, one of us stops. There are still so many things lying between us that need to be acknowledged.

She bursts into flames under my fingers.

Before I even know what has happened, our bodies are wrapped together. Moving. Sliding. Caressing. Loving. This is the most real, the most consuming feeling I can even imagine. And it's completely, irrevocably wrapped up in this woman here with me.

So when I blink up at her, I see the most beautiful smile in her lips I remember seeing—it isn't blinding, or full of pure joy, but still holds the hesitancy that marks our relationship right now.

"You love me. Real or not?" I ask.

She says, "Real."


	14. Caught

When I wake, I'm wrapped in Katniss' arms. I can't feel my leg (she's on top of that) but I  _can_  feel all of her against all of me. Her luxuriant hair spills over the pillow like a dark satin curtain, around her face, around me, and her arms are holding me tightly than ever. Last night, the nightmares came back again, so that the flashbacks and it led us to that moment. We made love through the night, holding each other tightly, searching for a strand of grass in the sea of bad memories. I turn my head and look at the face of the woman beside me. A stray piece of hair falls over her eyes, and the sunrays peeping through the window illuminate a part of her bare back. Her breathing is slow, and gentle, and she murmurs something as I move the stray hair away from her face. I can spend my all day just looking at her sleeping face (for the last one year I'm actually doing that), but it's my bladder which is pressing me urgently. So, I carefully remove her arm from my waist, and decide to search for the stray clothing that is spread all over the floor. Just then I feel her fingers gripping my wrist. Startled, I turn back to find her grey eyes looking at me.

"Don't go." She whispers, pulling herself up from the bed, and wrapping her arms around my shoulder. In the cold morning of January, her warm body was so comfortable against mine, and the slight pressing of her bare breasts against my back, make me to forget about my decision to leave the bed earlier. I turn back, and pull her closer, so that she again falls across my chest.

"You're becoming an early riser too, huh!" I tease her, drawing affectionate circles on her back "After last night I thought you'll sleep through the day."

Her face is flushed and it takes her three times of clearing her throat before she can speak. "Actually I never slept!"

"What?" Now it is my turn to be surprised, "And what did you do then?" I joke.

"I was watching you though the night." Her cheeks turn red, "You're so beautiful! When you stopped and fell asleep, I just couldn't stop looking at you, Peeta!"

It is really unusual for Katniss, but when I look into her eyes, I can see the truth. Those grey eyes have changed a lot in a year after the war. They become bright, dazzling, and if you see them closely, you'll never miss the love sparkling in her eyes.

The love for me.

We never said "I love you" to each other, but we feel that every time we look at each other. Every moment of our shared life, every time we make love, every day we live. I know it when she holds my hand on the way back to home or when she just breaks in my new bakery and kiss me on full mouth. She knows it too, and there is no confusion anymore.

I chuckle and pull her down into my lap. She smells of sleep and something tangy that's very attracting. "You're beautiful too, sweetheart." She smiles and wraps her arms around me. The touch of her bare body against mine ignites the fire again. The morning call is forgotten as I lay her on the floor, and kiss her mouth. I'm completely wrapped in her tight embrace as she drags me under the blanket. I am completely consumed with her fire when the bedroom door bangs open. Katniss scrambles to cover us with the blanket from the back of the sofa, and we peer at our unexpected visitor from our spot on floor.

It is Johanna who walks inside. There is a tray in her hand with three mugs on it. She blinks at us, and then peers closer as if her mind is playing tricks with her.

"So the rumor is true?" Her mouth is still open, she forgets to close it. "I thought it was some overenthusiastic reporters!"

I can't help it. I laugh. This sets Katniss off as well. Last month we were caught kissing in the forest by a reporter sneaking behind us. I don't know from where she came from, but I guessed that this report earned her a promotion. Because, the next day our front door was swarmed by reporters. Somehow we managed to escape through the back door and spent all day hiding in the forest. Later we knew it was Haymitch who saved us. He appeared from nowhere, and as the reporters got him, he managed to vomit on their shoes.

And today we forgot that we are not alone in this house anymore. It is one year celebration of the war, and the district is about to celebrate the first festival after the war. Many and many people are arriving from other districts. Johanna arrived last night, and we invited her to stay with us till the festival.

"I didn't know that you're an early riser, Johanna!" I try to act innocent, but it is really a hard sell when both of us are naked and it is obvious what we have been doing. Johanna is really unfortunate to walk in us in a time like this.

"Good morning!" Katniss welcomes our unwanted guest disdainfully. Obviously, she is more than a little uneasy when Johanna shows no sign of leaving. I touch her arm, and tell her to stay calm.

"Hello Mockingjay!" Johanna spits, there is so much disdain in her voice, "I was really unfortunate to sleep in the room next to yours." Katniss frowns as she hands her down the blue mug. "Why?"

"You've disturbed my sleep too much, dear." She replies casually and Katniss chocks at her words, and I pat her back. I guess she is resisting herself from getting out of the blanket (the only cloth we have on ourselves now)

"But I've not heard your voice much." She leans closer almost nuzzling my face as she hands me down the red mug, and then she stops. "My, my!" before any of us can protest, she drops herself on the blanket, just between us. Katniss glares, but she completely ignores her. "You look so handsome, Peeta!" she continues, "You look very mature."

"Thank you!" I smile, and she kisses my cheek. I know what she means, and I know what she really is. Katniss tries to kick me under the blanket, but unfortunately it hits Johanna.

"Hey," She turns her attention from me, and looks at Katniss, "What got into you, girl?"

"Nothing!" Katniss sips the coffee, and from her expression I know that she isn't really enjoying it. "The coffee is nice."

"I knew it." Johanna says unconvincingly, "I added alleovera in it. And I'll add more in the next time." She teases as if she will really do it next time.

"We'll enjoy it." I smile politely, and set down the horribly tasting coffee on the nightstand. But Johanna takes it as an invitation. She scoots closer, and leans against me, as if she is having a regular conversation, "So nights are nice, aren't they?" I glance at Katniss who seems to be short of words with an axe murderer stretched out so close to her.

"Fine, and how about your district?" I do remember my manners.

"Excellent." She gives a sideway look at Katniss, and then she leans closer as if she is going to tell me secrets. If she stops there I wouldn't mind, but she baits, "I can give you some tips, if you want."

"Johanna," Katniss hisses behind her, and before she can open her mouth further I cut her off, " If you excuse us, we'll meet you in the downstairs an hour later." I give her my best cold smile, "And yes, don't forget to make some alleovera coffee for us."

We dress ourselves for the festival. I choose a casual white shirt, and black pants, but Katniss insists me to wear the blue one. She chooses a fiery red gown designed by Cinna. It is the first dress that had ignited the fire of the rebellion, and we both agree at the point that it is the perfect choice for the one year anniversary of the rebellion. When we reach the main road leading to the judgment building we find, Octavia, Venia and Flavius in the crowd. Octavia waves at us we near them, hand in hand. There is no way hide our relationship because Johanna has already declared what she has seen earlier this morning.

"You've changed!" Octavia welcomes Katniss with a hug, "You look so well."

"Of course, she does, because she…." Johanna begins, and rest of the guests in the crowd gaze at her with so much interest, so I decide to cut her off, "It' s the weather, I must tell."

"Is it really?" Flavius gives me an odd look, but then Katniss moves closer, and slips her arm into mine, "Yes, it is. Isn't it Peeta?"

I gaze into her eyes lovingly. She is dazzling in the knee- long red gown she is wearing, and her eyes lost the crazy look she had in the lonely days in the district. "Yes, it is."

Although Octavia and Flavius insisted us to have a makeover, but we refuse. "It will make me to feel like the games again." Katniss says when they make the offer. I press her hand gently, I know that too. "Thanks for the offer." I tell them nicely. "But we want to face the world as we really are."

Octavia looks a bit disappointed, but soon she finds her attention in Johanna.

"Poor thing!" Katniss smiles as she glances at her unhappy face.

"Just pray that they don't plan to give her a tree costume again." I take her hand in this opportunity, and kiss her fingers.

"It will be disastrous!" She grins remembering Johanna's habit of ripping clothes in public. We continue walking to the judgment building together. Once deserted twelve is suddenly buzzing with life. visitors, reporters, camera crews. Suddenly it feels so overwhelming. There is a makeshift stage in the center, and people gathered around it. There is no tree to climb, so there is not a single empty place where you can set your foot. As we pass many and many people wave at us, obviously they recognize us. We wave at them too. Delly waves at us, wrapped in the arm of her new boyfriend from 13. She is smiling and looks so happy. The camera crews are ready. We spot Pollux and Cressida among the crew, we see Plutarch too sitting at the corner of the stage, chewing his lips worriedly. Possibly ,too worried about the show. Katniss presses my wrist and we decide to move in a safe place away from Plutarch's visual area.

Then we notice him. Clad in white suit and black sunglass with a gorgeous blonde by his side we can barely recognize him. He tells something to his companion, and stops to take a look of his surroundings. Right then I feel Katniss's fingers gripping my wrist tightly. And when I look at her face, I find all the colors draining away.

"Katniss." He stops near us, and takes off the dark sunglasses. His eyes are still the same shade of grey.

"Gale." She whispers his name, but it's a hesitant movement, rather than something instinctual that would raise my jealous heart. In fact, the only thing I really feel about the situation is pride at how Katniss is dealing with all of this and pity for the pained expression on Gale's face.

I gather Katniss into my arms and she clings to me, taking comfort for the moment. "It's alright. I'll leave you for a while."

"No." She places her hand on my chest, "Stay."

Gale's face hardens before he can speak, "So you two are together!" There is so much surprise in his voice as he looks at me.

I hold Katniss tightly that she wouldn't fall. But she is stronger than I thought. She swallows and then straights herself. "So what did you think? Isn't it obvious?" her voice is cold like ice.

Gale is taken aback with the coldness in her voice, and Katniss gazes at me lovingly, assuring that everything is going to be alright. "Just hold me tight." She mouths. I know that well, because my arms never leave Katniss's waist.

"You look good, Peeta." he mumbles just to break the silence. And I feel like it's the first honest, heartfelt thing he's said to me all night. "Maybe I didn't screw you up as bad as I thought." Then he turns his eyes to Katniss, "You look better too."

"Why wouldn't we?" This time Katniss questions back, holding my arm tighter than ever, "Me and Peeta take care of each other."

"Peeta?" His frown grows deeper, and he throws a menacing gaze at me, "Katniss he tried to kill you during the war. And you tell me to believe this?"

"Why not?" Finally I decide to speak, straightening my back, standing to my full height. Gale has a few inches and at least 30 pounds on me. But I can't let it go, especially when it concerns Katniss and me. "What do you think we've been doing?" I make my words loud and clear. "While you've been off playing hero, we've been taking care of each other. You made your choice."

Katniss smiles at me proudly, and Gale looks a bit disappointed. But the rage in his grey eyes isn't gone. I know he is searching for every reason not to accept it. He turns his gaze at Katniss and asks, ""Are they making you do this? Are you sure?"

Katniss takes a deep breath, and takes a glance of the cameras around us. None of us know if there is anyone secretly taping this conversation. But she finally speaks, "I choose Peeta."

He blinks. That's the only reaction I get from his stone-faced expression. Finally, he nods, processing the truth.

"You're happy?" he asks, faking indifference.

"Yes." Katniss sounds more confident than ever. "After everything we've gone though, don't you think it's obvious?"

He stares at us like he's trying to see straight through us. Behind his raged expression I can see the pain inside him. But Katniss ignores him completely; she turns and kisses my cheeks happily, "Peeta is my choice, Gale." I take her hand, and her fingers wrap around mine lovingly. I know it is the truth.

Suddenly the crowd begins cheering. President Paylor has arrived. Gale has many formalities to attend. "I wish I can go back to time, and change everything."

Both us know that he can't.

Like before, Effie Tinkett announces the arrival of the president. She is as pink as before, even her shades grew a bit brighter a bit. Paylor climbs up on the stage and waves at the crowd below. She has gained weight, but she is still recognizable as the woman we knew at the battlefield. We don't join the cheering crowd under the stage. It reminds us of the reaping days. So we stand where we are, under the shady tree. We watch Gale's car wheeling away.

"It is alright." I hold a trembling Katniss in my arms. She tilts her face to meet my eyes. Her eyes are teary.

"Was I too rude with him?" her voice is heavy.

"You're polite enough." My thumb brushes along her cheek and she wraps her arms around my chest.

"I feel better. Thank you."

"Don't know what you're thanking me for," I say. "I didn't do anything."

"You made me happy," She points out.

I can't argue with that and laugh as she kisses me. "I'm thinking about something else." I whisper against her lips. Startled, she raises her face from my chest and gaze deeply in my eyes. I know she can see through me.

"It's just a stray thought. I'm not pressing you." I point out.

"Perhaps." She shoves her hands in my curls, and pulls down my head near hers, "I'm thinking the same."

Her eyes flash when she pulls back and I know what she's thinking about. But I'm afraid she just wants to please me.

"Are you sure?" I sound hesitant.

"After all the death and destruction we've seen, don't think it's the time?" She laughs lightly, and I know she is serious. She needs me, as much as I need her. Our lives are completely entwined since the day we reaped for the 74th Hunger Games. And I can see the hunger again in her eyes.

I pull her closer, before I kiss her mouth and say, "Yes, it's time."

Suddenly the flashes of the cameras startle both of us. "Congratulations!" We hear the familiar voice of Plutarch, and as we pull apart we find ourselves looking straight at the black barreled lenses of the cameras. Cressida and Pollux are also smiling.

It is a conspiracy, but there is no escape from this right now. This is a live show, and the whole Panem has just witnessed the engagement of their Mockingjay.


	15. Epilogue

After crossing the long silent corridor, taking two turns to the left, I finally reach the end of our big victor's house. There is one large room, which is actually meant to be used for functions or social gathering. Since we don't have so many relatives, except occasional visits from Katniss's mother, Anne and her son Finn, it remains unused for most of the time of the year. I place my hand on the ornamented handle; the thick layers of dusts cover my skin. I have not been here for a long time. Cautiously, I push the door, and it slides open. It is dark inside, even in the bright day of August. Slowly, I turn on the light, and the bright fluorescent light fills the room, revealing the mystery it holds.

The memories.

Not the pictures, but drawn in dazzling oil paints or water colors, capturing every details of our life. Most of them are drawn while we're fighting the dark moments- me with my flashbacks and Katniss with her new found fears- the fear about pregnancy. The nights we spent together in each other's arms, whispering consoling words to each other. When the baby stirs inside her, I gather her in my arms, and remember those days. Then I used to set up the easel and canvas and Katniss sits there adding details to the paintings. That is the only way to get over our demons. This the way we gather courage.

Thus we make our own gallery.

I move near the first painting, the painting where I see a dark haired girl in the red plait dress, standing on a stool, her lips are parted, as if she is singing. The valley song. Through the jumbled memories I do remember the day, when I hear her voice; I was a goner. I may have forgotten many things after the hijacking, but it is something they could never erase from my mind. I smile at the memory. Have I ever imagined then where both of us standing now?

Then comes the next painting- the paintings I made during the victory tour. The Hunger Games. Mutts snarling at us, Clove with her knife, Rue lying in the bed of roses, and Katniss…

Everywhere. High up in a tree. Beating a shirt against a stone in the stream. Lying unconscious in a pool of blood. In the cave… Wearing the Mockingjay costume…

Tears gather at the corner of my eyes, as I touch the painting gently, lovingly. This is my Katniss; bold and fearless, always beside me when we're in danger. We beat the odd together. And…

My eyes move to the painting where Katniss stands in a beautiful white dress, with a banquet of primroses in her hand. Katniss was the most beautiful bride in the history of the world. She had been a vision walking towards me her eye contact never wavering from mine. Our wedding was a dream. A perfect dream. I love her more than my own life. I was now joined for all eternity to the other half of my soul.

Our vows were pure and heartfelt. Her vows touched me in a way that I had never been touched before. I felt so vulnerable to her and I felt her vulnerability in her vows to me as well.

Our first kiss as husband and wife could not have been more perfect…more real.

After we were forced into hundreds of pictures, actually it was Plutarch's idea. The poor guy was really searching for exclusive footage for the Mockingjay's wedding.

"I was furious." I turn my head to find a dark haired woman standing beside me. She moves forward, and gently kisses my lips, "I was actually planning the hundred ways how to shoot him."

"You can do it, sweetheart." I kiss her back. This is my Katniss. My wife. Elation. Joy. Happiness. Incredulity. "I guess I should have included your bows and arrows to your wedding gown design."

"That will be a beginning of a new fashion." Katniss smiles. Her smile always warms my heart. Pregnancy has softened her roughness. Still I think I can depend on the girl beside me, forever. She looks tired; of course nothing is comfortable when you are eight months pregnant.

"I guess, you decided to spare his life only when he hands us down the ticket to the district 4." I wrap my arms around her shoulders.

"I guess so." She whispers, and both of us turn our eyes to the painting where both of us are sitting in the beach with her mother, Anne and Finn. Everyone was smiling as the sun kissed our hair. Katniss looked radiant than ever.

"I never seen mom so happy like that day." Katniss leans closer, and rests her head on my shoulder, "That was the happiest day of my life."

Her voice is so thick, that I turn my head, and gaze into her eyes. They are glassy with tears. I cup her chin with my hand and tip her face upward. "And you make me happy too. After all the deaths and destruction we've seen, we deserve this."

She smiles, through her tears which are shining on her cheeks like pearls. Her lips are trembling, inviting to kiss them. I lower my head, and touch her with mine. First softly, only brushing them with mine. But soon it turns into the hunger, because she quickly seizes mine with hers, parting them with her impatient tongue. My hands slides to her waist, to her belly which is swollen with our new guest. It took me five, ten, fifteen years to convince her. We surface from the kiss, only when we need air. She is still clutching the front of my shirt, and my hand is still on her belly. Her hands follow mine, and she gently settles it on my hand. When she looks up, she looks unsure.

"But Peeta, what about our child?" she whispers looking at her swollen belly. "How we'll make it understand about our pasts? How can I tell it about the games?"

My eyes follow hers. I move closer and gather her in my arms. She surrenders to my embrace and rests her head on my chest. I inhale the mess of her dark hair, and stroke them gently, "We will Katniss. We've each other."

She tilts her head and looks at me. Then she raises her finger to trace my lips. The baby is kicking again inside her womb, and it always troubles her. I hold her closer when she trembles in my hug. When it stops kicking, she raises her face. "Peeta." She says, looking at me, "I'm thinking something."

"What, sweetheart?" I trace the side of her face. She is growing to love the baby.

"Names!" She whispers, red tints her cheeks, "Baby names. Willow for the girl, and Rye for the boy." She stops, to see my reaction, but I only rise my eyebrows. "I know they sound weird. But I came up with them yesterday when I was hunting." She hesitates, "I just…"

"They are wonderful, darling." I smother her hesitancy with a kiss. She smiles. I see so much promise for our future as we feel our child stirring inside her. She makes me happy, and I know she will make our children happy too. She will fight and protect our child. And I know I'll be always there for her.

There are many paintings to be added to our gallery- of our future child's first smile, first step, first birthday or the day he/she will first go to school. May be the day when our child will bring his or her first date to meet us.

Believe me; I can't wait to see what the future treasures for us.


End file.
